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^bc BnsUab 
Com^Dfe fbumalne 

Second Serlee 


MR. 

MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

BY 

CAPTAIN MARRYAT 



Zbe )EngIi0b 
Comebie Ibuntalne 
Secont) Series 

Masterpieces of the great 
English novelists in which 
are portrayed the varying 
aspects of English life from 
the time of Addison to the 
present day : a series anal- 
ogous to that in which 
Balzac depicted the man- 
ners and morals of his 
French contemporaries. 



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1 heir eyes directed to the volumes of smoke which 
poured through the ports. 


XTbe BngHeb Comcbfe Ibumainc 
SeconD Scdes 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


BY 

CAPTAIN MARRYAT 



NEW YORK 

Z\)e Century Co. 

1906 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two CoDfes Received 

APK 3 1906 

Copyright Entry 
CLASS <^XX,c. No. 
COPY B. 


Copyright, 1906, by 
The Century Co. 

Published Aprils igob. 


The De Vinne Press 


PUBLISHER’S NOTE. 


Captain Frederick Marryat, R. N., C. B., was bom in West- 
minster, England, in 1792. The lax discipline of the private 
schools he attended failed to curb the uncomfortable exuberance 
of this boisterous youth ; and several times he ran away, having 
become enamored of the thought of a sea life. In 1806 his 
father put him aboard the frigate Imperieuse. For the next 
twenty-five years Marryat led an adventurous life aboard ship — 
adventurous even for those palmy days of privateering, slave- 
trading and smuggling. A gallant officer apd intrepid seaman, 
his honours were many. In 1830 he resigned from the navy to 
devote himself to novel-writing, which already had resulted in the 
publication of his first book: “The Naval Officer, or Scenes and 
Adventures in the Life of Frank Mildmay.” 

“ Mr. Midshipman Easy,” his liveliest and most popular novel, 
appeared in 1836. It is said to have been inspired by Don Qui- 
xote. The author pictures the hero as having been reared in the 
notion that all men are equal— a difficult theory consistently to 
uphold in the early days of the British Navy. This motif was 
nothing short of an inspiration ; and the result is a narrative of 
rare humor and absorbing adventure, peopled by the jolliest lot of 
sea-dogs that ever trod a deck. 

Marryat’s books are perennially popular, because he is a born 
story-teller, and because his characters are real. For both incident 
and character he drew largely on his own experiences ; and it is 
to the autobiographical nature of his work that one must attribute 
the life and vigor of his splendid stories of the sea. 


v 



t 


I. 



I 

» 


i 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I 

Which the reader will find very easy to read 

CHAPTER H 

In which Mrs. Easy, as usual, has her own way 

CHAPTER HI 

In which our hero has to wait the issue of an argument 

CHAPTER IV 

In which the doctor prescribes going to school as a remedy for 
a cut finger 

CHAPTER V 

Jack Easy is sent to a school at which there is no flogging .... 
CHAPTER VI 

•n which Jack makes essay of his father’s sublime philosophy, 
and arrives very near to truth at last 

CHAPTER VII 

In which Jack makes some very sage reflections, and comes to 
a very unwise decision 

CHAPTER VHI 

In which Mr. Easy has his first lesson as to zeal in his Majesty’s 


vii 


PAGE 

3 

5 

8 

12 

20 

26 

35 


service 


43 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER IX page 

In which Mr. Easy finds himself on the other side of the Bay of 
Biscay 5 ^ 

CHAPTER X 

Showing how Jack transgresses against his own philosophy. ... 59 

CHAPTER XI 

In which our hero proves that all on board should equally 

sacrifice decency to duty 69 

CHAPTER XII 

In which our hero prefers going down to going up ; a choice, it 
is to be hoped, he will reverse upon a more important occasion 78 

CHAPTER XIH 

In which our hero begins to act and think for himself 90 

CHAPTER XIV 

In which our hero finds that disagreeable occurrences will take 
place on a cruise 107 

CHAPTER XV 

In which mutiny, like fire, is quenched for want of fuel and no 
want of water 1 20 

CHAPTER XVI 

In which Jack’s cruise is ended, and he regains the Harpy 127 

CHAPTER XVII 

In which our hero finds out that trigonometry is not only neces- 
sary to navigation, but may be required in settling affairs 
of honour 1^4 

CHAPTER XVIH 

In which our hero sets off on another cruise, in which he is not 
blown OFF shore i^o 

viii 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER XIX p^ge 

In which our hero follows his destiny and forms a tableau 165 

CHAPTER XX 

A long story, which the reader must listen to, as well as our hero 176 

CHAPTER XXI 

In which our hero is brought up ail standing under a press of sail 183 

CHAPTER XXII 

Our hero is sick with the service, but recovers with proper medi- 
cine — An argument ending, as most do, in a blow-up — Mesty 
lectures upon craniology 196 

CHAPTER XXIII 

Jack goes on another cruise — Love and Diplomacy — Jack proves 
himself too clever for three, and upsets all the arrangements 
of the high contracting powers 207 

CHAPTER XXIV 

Our hero plays the very devil 223 

CHAPTER XXV 

In which the old proverb is illustrated, ‘ That you must not 
count your chickens before they are hatched ’ 234 

CHAPTER XXVI 

In which our hero becomes excessively unwell, and agrees to go 
through a course of medicine 246 

CHAPTER XXVH 

In which Captain Wilson is repaid with interest for Jack’s 
borrowing his name; proving that a good name is as good as a 
legacy 254 

CHAPTER XXVIII 

^ Philosophy made easy ’ upon agrarian principles, the subject of 
some uneasiness to our hero — The first’ appearance, but not 
the last, of an important personage 262 


IX 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER XXIX PAGE 

In which our hero sees a little more service, and is better 

employed than in fighting Don Silvio 269 

CHAPTER XXX 

Modern philanthropy, which, as usual, is the cause of much 

trouble and vexation 278 

CHAPTER XXXI 

A regular set-to, in which the parties beaten are not knocked 
down, but rise higher and higher at each discomfiture — 
Nothing but the troops could have prevented them from going 
up to heaven 285 

CHAPTER XXXII 

In which our hero and Gascoigne ought to be ashamed of them- 
selves, and did feel what might be called midshipmite 
compunction 295 

CHAPTER XXXIII 

In which Mesty should be called throughout Mephistopheles, 
for it abounds in black cloaks, disguises, daggers, and dark 
deeds 306 

CHAPTER XXXIV 

Jack leaves the service, in which he had.no business, and goes 
home to mind his own business 312 

CHAPTER XXXV 

Mr. Easy’s wonderful invention fully explained by himself — 
much to the satisfaction of our hero, and, it is to be presumed, 
to that also of the reader 2 19 

CHAPTER XXXVI 

In which Jack takes up the other side of the argument, and 
proves that he can argue as well on the one side as the other. 327 


X 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER XXXVII page 

In which our hero finds himself an orphan, and resolves to go 

to sea again, without the smallest idea of equality 334 

CHAPTER XXXVIII 

In which our hero, as usual, gets into the very middle of it ... . 342 

CHAPTER XXXIX 

A council of war, in which Jack decides that he will have one 

more cruise 348 

CHAPTER XL 

In which there is another slight difference of opinion between 

those who should be friends 357 

CHAPTER XLI 

Which winds up the nautical adventures of Mr. Midshipman 

Easy 363 


xi 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Their eyes directed to the volumes of smoke which poured 

through the ports . .Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

Johnny roared with pain 24 

Floundered on shore blowing and spluttering 32 

And pray, who are you ? 44 

The pleasure of thrashing his enemy, if only for once 80 

Jack had covered his face with his hands 116*^ 

As neither of them stirred they imagined that both were asleep 156 

Do you mean to call me a swindler, sir? 190 

Easy and Gascoigne went down with large bundles in their arms 244 

Kissed her again and again 292 

Not always, replied Jack, knocking him down 320 


Xlll 


\ 



MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 












MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER I 

WHICH THE READER WILL FIND VERY EASY TO READ 

M r. NICODEMUS easy was a gentleman who lived 
down in Hampshire ; he was a married man, and in very 
easy circumstances. Most couples find it very easy to have 
a family, but not always quite so easy to maintain them. Mr. 
Easy was not at all uneasy on the latter score, as he had no 
children; but he was anxious to have them, as most people 
covet what they cannot obtain. After ten years, Mr. Easy 
gave it up as a bad job. Philosophy is said to console a 
man under disappointment, although Shakspeare asserts that 
it is no remedy for toothache; so Mr. Easy turned philoso- 
pher, the very best profession a man can take up, when he 
is fit for nothing else; he must be a very incapable person 
indeed who cannot talk nonsense. For some time, Mr. Easy 
could not decide upon what description his nonsense should 
consist of ; at last he fixed upon the rights of men, equality, 
and all that: how every person was born to inherit his share 
of the earth, a right at present only admitted to a certain 
length; that is, about six feet, for we all inherit our graves, 
and are allowed to take possession without dispute. But no 
one would listen to Mr. Easy’s philosophy. The women 
would not acknowledge the rights of men, whom they de- 
clared always to be in the wrong ; and, as the gentlemen who 
visited Mr. Easy were all men of property, they could not 
perceive the advantages of sharing with those who had none. 
However they allowed him to discuss the question, while 

3 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


they discussed his port wine. The wine was g^ood if the 
arguments were not, and we must take things as we find j 
them in this world. | 

While Mr. Easy talked philosophy, Mrs. Easy played | 
patience, and they were a very happy coui>le, riding side by | 
side on their hobbies, and never interfering with each other. \ 
Mr. Easy knew his wife could not understand him, and f 
therefore did not expect her to listen very attentively; and j 
Mrs. Easy did not care how much her husband talked, pro- | 
vided she was not put out in her game. Mutual forbearance j 
will always ensure domestic felicity. 

There was another cause for their agreeing so well. Upon 
any disputed question Mr. Easy invariably gave it up to Mrs. 
Easy, telling her that she should have her own way — and 
this pleased his wife; but, as Mr. Easy always took care, 
when it came to the point, to have his way, he was pleased 
as well. It is true that Mrs. Easy had long found out that 
she did not have her own way long; but she was of an easy 
disposition, and as, in nine cases out of ten, it was of very 
little consequence how things were done, she was quite satis- 
fied with his submission during the heat of the argument. Mr. 
Easy had admitted that she was right, and if like all men 
he would do wrong, why, what could a poor woman do? 
With a lady of such a quiet disposition, it is easy to imagine \ 
that the domestic felicity of Mr. Easy was not easily dis- t 
turbed. But, as people have observed before, there is a i 
mutability in human affairs. It was at the final of the | 
eleventh year of their marriage that Mrs. Easy at first com- i 
plained that she could not enjoy her breakfast. Mrs. Easy [ 
had her own suspicions, everybody else considered it past E 
doubt, all except Mr. Easy; he little ‘thought, good easy man, J 
that his greatness was ripening’; he had decided that to S 
have an heir was no Easy task, and it never came into his j 
calculations that there could be a change in his wife’s figure. I 
You might have added to it, subtracted from it, divided it, | 
or multiplied it, but as it was a zero, the result would be j 
always the same. Mrs. Easy also was not quite sure — she 
believed it might be the case, there was no saying; it might 
be a mistake, like that of Mrs. Trunnion’s in the novel, and, 
therefore, she said nothing to her husband about the matter. 


4 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


At last Mr. Easj^ opened his eyes, and when, upon interro- 
g:ating: his wife, he found out the astounding: truth, he opened 
his eyes still wider, and then he snapped his fing:ers, and 
danced, like a bear upon hot plates, with delig:ht, thereby 
proving: that different causes may produce similar effects in 
two instances at the same time. The bear dances from pain, 
Mr. Easy from pleasure; and ag:ain, when we are indifferent, 
or do not care for anything:, we snap our fing:ers at it, and 
when we are overjoyed and obtain what we most care for, 
we also snap our fing:ers. Two months after Mr. Easy 
snapped his fing:ers, Mrs. Easy felt no inclination to snap 
hers, either from indifference or pleasure. The fact was, 
that Mrs. Easy's time was come to underg:o what Shakespeare 
pronounces, “the pleasing: punishment that women bear,” but 
Mrs. Easy, like the rest of her sex, declared, “that all men 
were liars,” and most particularly poets. 

But while Mrs. Easy was suffering:, Mr. Easy was in 
ecstasies. He laug:hed at pain, as all philosophers do when 
it is suffered by other people, and not by themselves. 

In due course of time, Mrs. Easy presented her husband 
with a fine boy, whom we present to the public as our hero. 


CHAPTER II 

IN WHICH MRS. EASY, AS USUAL, HAS HER OWN WAY 

I T was the fourth day after Mrs. Easy's confinement that 
Mr. Easy, who was sitting: by her bedside in an easy- 
chair, commented as follows: T have been thinking:, my 
dear Mrs. Easy, about the name I shall g:ive this child.' 

‘Name, Mr. Easy! why, what name should you g:iveitbut 
your own?' 

‘Not so, my dear,' replied Mr. Easy; ‘they call all names 
proper names, but I think that mine is not. It is the very 
worst name in the calendar.' 

‘Why, what’s the matter with it, Mr. Easy?' 

‘The matter affects me as well as the boy. Nicodemus is 
a long name to write at full length, and Nick is vulgar.’ 

5 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Besides, as there will be two Nicks, they will naturally call 
my boy young Nick, and of course I shall be styled old Nick, 
which will be diabolical.’ 

‘Well, Mr. Easy, at all events then let me choose the name.’ 
‘That you shall, my dear, and it was with this view that I 
have mentioned the subject so early.’ 

‘I think, Mr. Easy, I will call the boy after my poor father 
—his name shall be Robert.’ i 

‘Very well, my dear, if you wish it, it shall be Robert. 
You shall have your own way. But I think, my dear, upon ^ 
a little consideration, you will acknowledge that there is a 
decided objection.’ ' 

‘An objection, Mr. Easy?’ 

‘Yes, my dear; Robert may be very well, but you must I 
reflect upon the consequences ; he is certain to be called Bob.’ 
‘Well, my dear, and suppose they do call him Bob?’ 

‘I cannot bear even the supposition, my dear. You forget i 
the county in which we are residing, the downs covered 
with sheep.’ 

‘Why, Mr. Easy, what can sheep have to do with a i 
Christian name ?’ [ 

‘There it is ; women never look to consequences. My dear, [ 
they have a great deal to do with the name of Bob. I will f 
appeal to any farmer in the county, if ninety-nine shepherds’ | 
dogs out of one hundred are not called Bob. Now observe, 1 
your child is out of doors somewhere in the fields or planta- ; 
tions ; you want and you call him. Instead of your child, what f 
do you find? Why, a dozen curs at least who come running j 
up to you, all answering to the name of Bob, and wagging 
their stumps of tails. You see, Mrs. Easy, it is a dilemma I 
not to be got over. You level your only son to the brute ! 
creation by giving him a Christian name which, from its 1 ; 
peculiar brevity, has been monopolised by all the dogs in the \ 
country. Any other name you please, my dear, but in this li 
one instance you must allow me to lay my positive veto.’ i 
‘Well, then, let me see— but I’ll think of it, Mr. Easy; my | 
head aches very much just now.’ 

‘I will think for you, my dear. What do you say to John?’ |‘ 
‘Oh no, Mr. Easy, such a common name.’ 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


'A proof of its popularity, my dear. It is scriptural— we 
have the Apostle and the Baptist — we have a dozen popes 
who were all Johns. It is royal — we have plenty of kings who 
were Johns— and, moreover, it is short, and sounds honest 
and manly.’ 

‘Yes, very true, my dear; but they will call him Jack.’ 

‘Well, we have had several celebrated characters who were 
Jacks. There was— let me see— Jack the Giant Killer, and 
Jack of the Bean Stalk— and Jack— Jack^ ’ 

‘Jack Spratt,’ replied Mrs. Easy. 

‘And Jack Cade, Mrs. Easy, the great rebel— and Three- 
fingered Jack, Mrs. Easy, the celebrated negro — and, above 
all. Jack Falstaff, ma’am. Jack Falstaff, — honest Jack Falstaff, 
—witty Jack Falstaff-’ 

‘I thought, Mr. Easy, that I was to be permitted to choose 
the name.’ 

‘Well, so you shall, my dear; I give it up to you. Do just 
as you please ; but depend upon it that John is the right name. 
Is it not now, my dear?’ 

‘It’s the way you always treat me,Mr. Easy; you say that 
you give it up, and that I shall have my own way, but I never 
do have it. I am sure that the child will be christened 
John.’ 

‘Nay, my dear, it shall be just what you please. Now I 
recollect it, there were several Greek emperors who were 
Johns ; but decide for yourself, my dear.’ 

‘No, no,’ replied Mrs. Easy, who was ill, and unable to 
contend any longer, ‘I give it up, Mr. Easy. I know how it 
will be, as it always is ; you give me my own way as people 
give pieces of gold to children, it’s their own money, but 
they must not spend it. Pray call him John.’ 

‘There, my dear, did not I tell you you would be of my 
opinion upon reflection? I knew you would. I have given 
you your own way, and you tell me to call him John ; so now 
we’re both of the same mind, and that point is settled.’ 

‘I should like to go to sleep, Mr. Easy; I feel far from 
well.’ 

‘You shall always do just as you like, my dear,’ replied the 
husband, ‘and have your own way in everything. It is the 

7 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY, 


greatest pleasure I have when I yield to your wishes. I will 
walk in the garden. Good-bye, my dear.’ 

Mrs. Easy made no reply, and the philosopher quitted the 
room. As may easily be imagined, on the following day the 
boy was christened John. 


CHAPTER III 

IN WHICH OUR HERO HAS TO WAIT THE ISSUE OF AN ARGUMENT 

T he reader may observe that, in general, all my first ) 
chapters are very short, and increase in length as the , 
work advances. I mention this as a proof of my modesty and ! 
diffidence. At first, I am like a young bird just out of its j 
mother’s nest, pluming my little feathers and taking short 
flights. By degrees I obtain more confidence, and wing my | 
course over hill and dale. i 

It is very difficult to throw any interest into a chapter on 
childhood. There is the same uniformity in all children until : 
they develop. We cannot, therefore, say much relative to 
Jack Easy’s earliest days ; he sucked and threw up his milk, i 
while the nurse blessed it for a pretty dear, slept, and sucked ^ 
again. He crowed in the morning like a cock, screamed , 
when he was washed, stared at the candle, and made wry | 
faces with the wind. Six months passed in these innocent j 
amusements, and then he was put into shorts. But I ought 
here to have remarked that Mrs. Easy did not find herself j 
equal to nursing her own infant, and it was necessary to | 
look out for a substitute. I 

Now a commonplace person would have been satisfied with 
the recommendation of the medical man, who looks but to the ■ 
one thing needful, which is a sufficient and wholesome supply ' 
of nourishment for the child ; but Mr. Easy was a philosopher, ' 
and had latterly taken to craniology, and he descanted very 
learnedly with the doctor upon the effect of his only son 
obtaining his nutriment from an unknown source. ‘Who 
knows,’ observed Mr. Easy, ‘but that my son may not 
imbibe with his milk the very worst passions of human 
nature?’ 


8 


MR. midshipman easy 


‘I have examined her,’ replied the doctor, ‘and can safely 
recommend her.’ 

That examination is only preliminary to one more im- 
portant/ replied Mr. Easy. ‘1 must examine her.’ 

‘Examine who, Mr. Easy?’ exclaimed his wife, who had 
lain down again on the bed. 

‘The nurse, my dear.’ 

‘Examine what, Mr. Easy?’ continued the lady. 

‘Her head, my dear,’ replied the husband. ‘I must ascer- 
tain what her propensities are.’ 

‘I think you had better leave her alone, Mr. Easy. 
She comes this evening, and I shall question her pretty 
severely. Dr Middleton, what do you know of this young 
person ?’ 

‘I know, madam, that she is very healthy and strong, or I 
should not have selected her.’ 

‘But is her character good?’ 

‘Really, madam, I know little about her character; but 
you can make any inquiries you please. At the same time I 
ought to observe, that if you are too particular on that point, 
you will have some difficulty in providing yourself.’ 

‘Well, I shall see,’ replied Mrs. Easy. 

‘And I shall feel,’ rejoined the husband. 

This parleying was interrupted by the arrival of the very 
person in question, who was announced by the housemaid, 
and was ushered in. She was a handsome, florid, healthy- 
looking girl, awkward and naive in her manner, and appar- 
ently not over wise ; there was more of the dove than of the 
serpent in her composition. 

Mr. Easy, who was very anxious to make his own dis- 
coveries, was the first who spoke. ‘Young woman, come this 
way, I wish to examine your head.’ 

‘Oh, dear me, sir, it’s quite clean, I assure you,’ cried the 
girl, dropping a curtsey. 

Dr. Middleton, who sat between the bed and Mr. Easy’s 
chair, rubbed his hands and laughed. 

In the meantime, Mr. Easy had untied the string and taken 
off the cap of the young woman, and was very busy putting 
his fingers through her hair, during which the face of the 
young woman expressed fear and astonishment. 

9 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

‘I am glad to perceive that you have a large portion of 
benevolence.’ 

'Yes/ replied the young woman, dropping a curtsey. 

'And veneration also.’ 

'Thanky, sir.’ 

'And the organ of modesty is strongly developed.’ 

'Yes, sir,’ replied the girl with a smile. 

'That’s quite a new organ,’ thought Dr. Middleton. | 

'Philoprogenitiveness very powerful.’ | 

'If you please, sir, I don’t know what that is,’ answered | 
Sarah with a curtsey. | 

'Nevertheless you have given us a practical illustration. ^1 
Mrs. Easy, I am satisfied. Have you any questions to ask? |j 
But it is quite unnecessary.’ ! 

'To be sure I have, Mr. Easy. Pray, young woman, what : 
is your name?’ 

'Sarah, if you please, ma’am.’ 

'How long have you been married?’ 

'Married, ma’am!’ 

'Yes, married.’ i 

'If you please, ma’am, I had a misfortune, ma’am,’ replied 
the girl, casting down her eyes. 

‘What, have you not been married?’ 

'No, ma’am, not yet.’ 

'Good heavens! Dr. Middleton, what can you mean by 
bringing this person here?’ exclaimed Mrs. Easy. 'Not a | 
married woman, and she has a child !’ 

'If you please, ma’am,’ interrupted the young woman, i 
dropping a curtsey, 'it was a very little one.’ 

'A very little one !’ exclaimed Mrs. Easy. 

'Yes, ma’am, very small indeed, and died soon after it was 
born.’ 

'Oh, Dr. Middleton— what could you mean, Dr. Middle- ' 
ton ?’ I 

'My dear madam,’ exclaimed the doctor, rising from his 
chair, ‘this is the only person that I could find suited to the 
wants of your child, and if you do not take her, I cannot 
answer for its life. It is true that a married woman might 
be procured; but married women who have a proper feeling 
will not desert their own children ; and, as Mr. Easy asserts, 

10 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


and you appear to imagine, the temper and disposition of 
your child may be affected by the nourishment it receives, I 
think it more likely to be injured by the milk of a married 
Avoman who will desert her own child for the sake of gain. 
The misfortune which has happened to this young woman is 
not always a proof of a bad heart, but of strong attach- 
ment, and the overweening confidence of simplicity.’ 

‘You are correct. Doctor,’ replied Mr. Easy, ‘and her head 
proves that she is a modest young woman, with strong re- 
ligious feelings, kindness of disposition, and every other 
requisite.’ 

‘The head may prove it all for what I know, Mr. Easy, 
but her conduct tells another tale.’ 

‘She is well fitted for the situation, ma’am,’ continued the 
doctor. 

‘And if you please, ma’am,’ rejoined Sarah, ‘it was such a 
little one/ 

‘Shall I try the baby, ma’am?’ said the monthly nurse, 
who had listened in silence. ‘It is fretting so, poor thing, 
and has its dear little fist right down its throat.’ 

Dr. Middleton gave the signal of assent, and in a few 
seconds Master John Easy was fixed to Sarah as tight as a 
leech. 

‘Lord love it, how hungry it is ! — there, there, stop it a mo- 
ment, it’s choking, poor thing!’ 

Mrs. Easy, who was lying on her bed, rose up, and went 
to the child. Her first feeling was that of envy, that another 
should have such a pleasure which was denied to herself, the 
next that of delight, at the satisfaction expressed by the 
infant. In a few minutes the child fell back in a deep sleep. 
Mrs. Easy was satisfied; maternal feelings conquered all 
others, and Sarah was duly installed. 

To make short work of it, we have said that Jack Easy in 
six months was in shorts. He soon afterwards began to 
crawl and show his legs ; indeed so indecorously, that it was 
evident that he had imbibed no modesty with Sarah’s milk, 
neither did he appear to have gained veneration or benevo- 
lence, for he snatched at everything, squeezed the kitten to 
death, scratched his mother, and pulled his father by the hair : 
notwithstanding all which, both his father and mother and 

II 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


the whole household declared him to be the finest and 
sweetest child in the universe. But if we were to narrate all 
the wonderful events of Jack’s childhood from the time of 
his birth up to the age of seven years, as chronicled by Sarah, 
who continued his dry nurse after he had been weaned, it 
would take at least three volumes folio. Jack was brought 
up in the way that every only child usually is,— that is, he was 
allowed to have his own way. 


CHAPTER IVi 

IN WHICH THE DOCTOR PRESCRIBES GOING TO 
SCHOOL AS A REMEDY FOR A CUT FINGER 

*TT AVE you no idea of putting the boy to school, Mrs. 
Xn Easy ?’ said Dr. Middleton, who had been summoned by 
a groom with his horse in a foam to attend immediately at 
Forest Hill, the name of Mr. Easy’s mansion, and who, upon 
his arrival, had found that Master Easy had cut his thumb. 
One would have thought that he had cut his head off by the 
agitation pervading the whole household,— Mr. Easy walk- 
ing up and down very uneasy, Mrs. Easy with great difficulty 
prevented from syncope, and all the maids . bustling and 
passing round Mrs. Easy’s chair. Everybody appeared 
excited except Master Jack Easy himself, who with a rag 
round his finger, and his pinafore spotted with blood, was 
playing at bob-cherry, and cared nothing about the matter. 

Well, what’s the matter, my little man?’ said Dr. Middle- 
ton, on entering, addressing himself to Jack, as the most 
sensible of the whole party. 

‘Oh, Dr. Middleton,’ interrupted Mrs. Easy, ‘he has cut 
his hand ; I’m sure that a nerve is divided, and then the lock- 
jaw ’ 

The doctor made no reply but examined the finger: Jack 
Easy continued to play bob-cherry with his right hand. 

‘Have you such a thing as a piece of sticking-plaster, in the 
house, madam?’ observed the doctor, after examination. 

‘Oh yes;— run, Mary— run, Sarah!’ In a few seconds the 
12 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


maids appeared, Sarah bringing the sticking-plaster, and 
Mary following with the scissors. 

‘Make yourself quite easy, madam,’ said Dr. Middleton, 
after he put on the plaster, ‘I will answer for no evil con- 
sequences.’ 

‘Had I not better take him upstairs, and let him lie down 
a little?’ replied Mrs. Easy, slipping a guinea into the 
doctor’s hand. 

‘It is not absolutely requisite, madam,’ said the doctor; 
‘but at all events he will be kept out of more mischief.’ 

‘Come, my dear, you hear what Dr. Middleton says.’ 

‘Yes, I heard,’ replied Jack ; ‘but I shan’t go.’ 

‘My dear Johnny — come, love — now do, my dear Johnny.’ 

Johnny played bob-cherry, and made no answer. 

‘Come, Master Johnny,’ said Sarah. 

‘Go away, Sarah,’ said Johnny, with a backhander. 

‘Oh fie. Master Johnny!’ said Mary. 

‘Johnny, my love,’ said Mrs. Easy in a coaxing tone, ‘come 
now— will you go?’ 

‘I’ll go in the garden and get some more cherries,’ replied 
^ Master Johnny. 

‘Come, then, love, we will gc mto the garden.’ 

Master Johnny jumped off his chair and took his mamma 
by the hand. 

‘What a dear, good, obedient child it is!’ exclaimed Mrs. 
Easy: ‘you may lead him with a thread.’ 

‘Yes, to pick cherries,’ thought Dr. Middleton. 

Mrs. Easy, and Johnny, and Sarah, and Mary went into 
the garden, leaving Dr. Middleton alone with Mr. Easy, who 
had been silent during this scene. Now Dr. Middleton was 
a clever, sensible man, who had no wish to impose upon 
any one. As for his taking a guinea for putting on a piece 
of sticking-plaster, his conscience was very easy on that score. 
His time was equally valuable, whether he were employed for 
something or nothing; and moreover he attended the poor 
gratis. Constantly in the house, he had seen much of Mr. 
John Easy, and perceived that he was a courageous, decided 
boy, of a naturally good disposition ; but from the idiosyncrasy 
of the father and the doting folly of the mother, in a sure 
way of being spoiled. As soon, therefore, as the lady was 

13 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

out of hearing, he took a chatr, and made the query at the 
commencement of the chapter, which we shall now repeat. 

‘Have you no idea of putting the boy to school, Mr. Easy ?’ 

Mr. Easy crossed his legs, and clasped his hands together 
over his knees, as he always did when he was about to com- 
mence an argument. 

‘The great objection that I have to sending a boy to school. 
Dr. Middleton, is, that I conceive that the discipline enforced 
is not only contrary to the rights of men, but also in oppo- 
sition to all sound sense and common judgment. Not content 
with punishment, which is in itself erroneous and an in- 
fringement of social justice, they even degrade the minds of 
the boys still more by applying punishment to the most 
degraded part, adding contumely to tyranny. Of course 
it is intended that a boy who is sent to school should gain 
by precept and example; but is he to learn benevolence by 
the angry look and the flourish of the vindictive birch, — or 
forbearance by the cruelty of the ushers, — or patience, when 
the masters over him are out of all patience, — or modesty, 
when his nether parts are exposed to general examination? 
Is he not daily reading a lesson at variance with that equality 
which we all possess, but of which we are unjustly deprived? 
Why should there be a distinction between the flogger and 
the floggee? Are they not both fashioned alike after God’s 
image, endowed with the same reason, having an equal right 
to what the world offers, and which was intended by Prov- 
idence to be equally distributed? Is it not that the sacred 
inheritance of all, which has tyrannously and impiously been 
ravished from the many for the benefit of the few, and which 
ravishment, from long custom of iniquity and inculcation 
of false precepts, has too long been basely submitted to? 
Is it not the duty of a father to preserve his only son from 
imbibing these dangerous and debasing errors, which will 
render him only one of a vile herd who are content to suffer, 
provided that they live? And yet are not these very errors 
inculcated at school, and impressed upon their minds in- 
versely by the birch? Do not they there receive their first 
lesson in slavery with the first lesson in A B C ; and are not 
their minds thereby prostrated, so as never to rise again 
but ever to bow to despotism, to cringe to rank, to think and 

14 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


j act by the precepts of others, and to tacitly disavow that 
If sacred equality which is our birthright? No, sir, without 
I they can teach without resorting to such a fundamental error 
, as flogging, my boy shall never go to- school.' 

And Mr.. Easy threw himself back in his chair, imagining, 

' like all philosophers, that he had said something very clever. 

Dr. Middleton knew his man, and therefore patiently 
' waited until he had exhausted his oratory. 

‘I will grant,' said the doctor at last, ‘that all you say may 
have great truth in it ; but, Mr. Easy, do you not think that 
by not permitting a boy to be educated, you allow him to 
remain more open to that very error of which you speak ? It 
is only education which will conquer prejudice, and enable a 
man to break through the trammels of custom. Now, allow- 
ing that the birch is used, yet it is at a period when the young 
mind is so elastic as to soon become indifferent ; and after he 
' has attained the usual rudiments of education, you will then 
find him prepared to receive thpse lessons which you can 
^ yourself instil.' 

i ‘I will teach him everything myself,' replied .Mr. Easy, 
folding his arms* consequentially and determinedly. 

‘I do not doubt your capability, Mr. Easy; but unfortu- 
nately you will always have a difficulty which you never can 
get over. Excuse me, I know what you are capable of, and 
the boy would indeed be happy with such a preceptor, but 
—if I must speak plain— you must be aware as well as I am, 
that the maternal fondness of Mrs. Easy will always be a 
bar to your intention. He is already so spoiled by her, that 
he will not obey ; and without obedience you cannot inculcate.' 

‘I grant, my dear sir, that there is a difficulty on that point ; 
but •maternal weakness must then be overcome by paternal 
severity.' 

‘May I ask how, Mr. Easy ? for it appears to me impossible.' 

‘Impossible! By heavens. I'll make him obey, or I'll ' 

—Here Mr. Easy stopped before the word flog was fairly 
out of his mouth,— ‘I’ll know the reason why. Dr. Middleton.' 

Dr. Middleton checked his inclination to laugh, and replied, 
‘That you would hit upon some scheme, by which you would 
obtain the necessary power over him, I have no doubt; but 
what will be tte consequence? The boy will consider his 

15 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


mother as a protector, and you as a tyrant. He will have 
an aversion to you, and with that aversion he will never pay ; 
respect and attention to your valuable precepts when he 
arrives at an age to understand them. Now it appears to ;; 
me that this difficulty which you have raised may be got ?j 
over. I know a very worthy clergyman who does not use 
the birch; but I will write, and put the direct question to* him, '}{ 
and then if your boy is removed from the danger arising ,] 
from Mrs. Easy's over-indulgence, in a short time he will be I 
ready for your more important tuition.' 

‘I think,' replied Mr. Easy, after a pause, 'that what you | 
say merits consideration. I acknowledge that in consequence ; 
of Mrs. Easy's nonsensical indulgence, the boy is unruly, and | 
will not obey me at present ; and if your friend does not apply j 
the rod, I will think seriously of sending my son John to him , 
to learn the elements.' ^ 

The doctor had gained his point by flattering the philos- -i 
opher. * 

In a day he returned with a letter from the pedagogue in 
answer to one supposed to be sent to him, in which the use of 
the birch was indignantly disclaimed, and Mr. Easy an- 
nounced to his wife, when they met that day at tea-time, his 
intentions with regard to his son John. 

‘To school, Mr. Easy? what, send Johnny to school! a i 
mere infant to school !' i 

‘Surely, my dear, you must be aware that at nine years it 
is high time that he learned to read.' I 

‘Why he almost reads already, Mr. Easy; surely I can 
teach him that. Does he not, Sarah?' 

‘Lord bless him, yes, ma'am, he was saying his letters 
yesterday.' I 

‘Oh, Mr. Easy, what can have put this in your head? , 
Johnny, my dear, come here— tell me now what 's the letter A? 
You were singing it in the garden this morning.’ 

‘I want some sugar,' replied Johnny, stretching his arm | 
over the table to the sugar-basin, which was out of his reach. I 
‘Well, my love, you shall have a great lump if you will tell 
me what’s the letter A.’ j 

‘A was an archer, and shot at a frog,’ replied Johnny in a 
surly tone. 

i6 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


^There now, Mr. Easy; and he can go through the whole 
alphabet— can’t he, Sarah?’ 

That he can, the dear— can’t you, Johnny dear?’ 

^No,’ replied Johnny. 

‘Yes, you can, my love, you know what’s the letter B. 
Now don’t you?’ 

‘Yes,’ replied Johnny. 

‘There, Mr. Easy, you see what the boy knows, and how 
obedient he is too. Come, Johnny dear, tell us what was B?’ 

‘No, I won’t,’ replied Johnny, ‘I want some more sugar’; 
and Johnny, who had climbed on a chair, spread himself 
over the table to reach it. 

‘Mercy ! Sarah, pull him off— he’ll upset the urn,’ screamed 
Mrs. Easy. Sarah caught hold of Johnny by the loins to 
pull him back, but Johnny, resisting the interference, turned 
round on his back as he lay on the table, and kicked Sarah 
in the face, just as she made another desperate grasp at him. 
The rebound from the kick, given as he lay on a smooth 
mahogany table, brought Johnny’s head in contact with the 
um, which was upset in the opposite direction, and notwith- 
standing a rapid movement on the part of Mr. Easy, he 
received a sufficient portion of boiling liquid on his legs to 
scald him severely, and induce him to stamp and swear in a 
very unphilosophical way. In the meantime Sarah and Mrs. 
Easy had caught up Johnny, and were both holding him at 
the same time, exclaiming and lamenting. The pain of the 
scald and the indifference shown towards him were too much 
for Mr. Easy’s temper to put up with. He snatched Johnny 
out of their arms, and quite forgetting his equality and rights 
of men, belaboured him without mercy. Sarah flew in to 
interfere, and received a blow which not only made her see a 
thousand stars, but sent her reeling on the floor. Mrs. Easy 
went off into hysterics, and Johnny howled so as to be heard 
at a quarter of a mile. 

How long Mr. Easy would have continued it is impossible 
to say; but the door opened, and Mr. Easy looked up while 
still administering the punishment, and perceived Dr. Middle- 
ton in mute astonishment. He had promised to come in to 
tea, and enforce Mr. Easy’s arguments, if it were necessary ; 
but it certainly appeared to him that in the argument which 

17 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Mr. Easy was then enforcing he required no assistance. 
However, at the entrance of Dr. Middleton, Johnny was 
dropped, and lay roaring on the floor; Sarah too remained 
* where she had been floored, Mrs. Easy had rolled on the 
floor, the urn was also on the floor, and Mr. Easy, although 
not floored, had not a leg to stand upon. 

Never did a medical man look in more opportunely. Mr. 
Easy at first was not certainly of that opinion, but his legs 
became so painful that he soon became a convert. 

Dr. Middleton, as in duty bound, first picked up Mrs. Easy, 
and laid her on the sofa. Sarah rose, picked up Johnny, and 
carried him kicking and roaring out of the room; in return 
for which attention she received sundry bites. The footman, 
who had announced the doctor, picked up the urn, that being 
all that was in his department. Mr. Easy threw himself 
panting and in agony on the other sofa, and Dr. Middleton 
was excessively embarrassed how to act: he perceived that 
Mr. Easy required his assistance, and that Mrs. E'asy could 
do without it; but how to leave a lady who was half really 
and half pretendedly in hysterics, was difficult; for if he 
attempted to leave her, she kicked and flounced, and burst out 
the more. At last Dr. Middleton rang the bell, which brought 
the footman, who summoned all the maids, who carried Mrs. 
Easy upstairs, and then the doctor was able to attend to the 
only patient who really required his assistance. Mr. Easy 
explained the affair in a few words, broken into ejaculations 
from pain, as the doctor removed his stockings. From the 
applications of Dr. Middleton, Mr. Easy soon obtained bodily 
relief ; but what annoyed him still more than his scalded legs, 
was the doctor having been a witness to his infringement of 
the equality and rights of man. Dr. Middleton perceived this, 
and he knew also how to pour balm into that wound. 

‘My dear Mr. Easy, I am very sorry that you have had this 
accident, for which you are indebted to Mrs. Easy's foolish 
indulgence of the boy, but I am glad to perceive that you have 
taken up those parental duties which are inculcated by the 
Scriptures. Solomon says “that he who spares the rod, spoils 
the child,” thereby implying that it is the duty of a father to 
correct his children, and in a father, the so doing does not 
interfere with the rights of man, or any natural equality, for 

i8 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


the son being a part or portion of the father, he only is 
correcting his own self, and the proof of it is, that a 
father, in punishing his own son, feels as much pain in so 
doing as if he were himself punished. It is therefore nothing 
but self-discipline, which is strictly enjoined us by the 
Scriptures.^ 

‘That is exactly my opinion,' replied Mr. Easy, comforted 
at the doctor having so logically got him out of the scrape. 
‘But— he shall go to school to-morrow, that I'm determined 
on.' 

‘He will have to thank Mrs. Easy for that,' replied the 
doctor. 

‘Exactly,' replied Mr. E^sy. ‘Doctor, my legs are getting 
very hot again.' 

‘Continue to bathe them with the vinegar and water, Mr. 
Easy, until I send you an embrocation, which will give you 
immediate relief. I will call to-morrow. By the bye, I am 
to see a little patient at Mr. Bonnycastle's ; if it is any accom- 
modation, I will take your son with me.' 

‘It will be a great accommodation, doctor,' replied Mr. 
Easy. 

‘Then, my dear sir, I will just go up and see how Mrs. 
Easy is, and to-morrow I will call at ten. I can wait an hour. 
Good-night.' 

‘Good-night, doctor.' 

The doctor had his game to play with Mrs. Easy. He 
magnified her husband's accident— he magnified his wrath, 
and advised her by no means to say one word, until he was 
'well, and more pacified. The next day he repeated this dose, 
and, in spite of the ejaculations of Sarah, and the tears of 
Mrs. Easy, who dared not venture to plead her cause, and the 
violent resistance of Master Johnny, who appeared to have a 
presentiment of what was to come, our hero was put into Dr. 
Middleton's chariot, and with the exception of one plate of 
glass which he kicked out of the window with his feet, 
and for which feat the doctor, now that he had him all 
to himself, boxed his ears till he was nearly blind, 
he was, without any further eventful occurrence, carried 
by the doctor's footman into the parlour of Mr. Bonny- 
castle. 


19 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER V 

JACK EASY IS SENT TO A SCHOOL AT WHICH THERE 
IS NO FLOGGING 

M aster jack had been plumped down in a chair by 
the doctor’s servant, who, as he quitted him, first looked 
at his own hands, from which the blood was drawn in several 
parts, and then at Master Jack, with his teeth closed and lips 
compressed, as much as to say, Tf I only dared, would not I, 
that’s all?’ and then walked out of the room, repaired to the 
carriage at the front door, when he showed his hands to the 
coachman, who looked down from his box in great commisera- 
tion, at the same time fully sharing his fellow-servant’s in- 
dignation. But we must repair to the parlour. Dr. Middle- 
ton ran over a newspaper, while Johnny sat on the chair all 
of a heap, looking like a lump of sulks, with his feet on the 
upper front bar, and his knees almost up to his nose. He 
was a promising pupil. Jack. 

Mr. Bonnycastle made his appearance — a tall, well-built, 
handsome, fair man, with a fine, powdered head, dressed in 
solemn black, and knee buckles; his linen beautifully clean, 
and with a peculiar bland expression of countenance. When 
he smiled he showed a row of teeth white as ivory, and his 
mild blue eye was the ne plus ultra of beneficence. He was 
the beau ideal of a preceptor, and it was impossible to see him 
and hear his mild pleasing voice, without wishing that all your 
sons were under his protection. He was a ripe scholar, and 
a good one, and at the time we speak of had the care of up- 
wards of one hundred boys. He was celebrated for turning 
them out well, and many of his pupils were rising fast in the 
senate, as well as distinguishing themselves in the higher 
professions. 

Dr. Middleton, who was on intimate terms with Bonny- 
castle, rose as he entered the room, and they shook hands. 
Middleton then turned to where Jack sat, and, pointing to 
him, said, ‘Look there.’ 

Bonnycastle smiled. ‘I cannot 'say that I have had worse, 
but I have almost as bad. I will apply the Promethean torch, 

20 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

and soon vivify that rude mass. Come, sit down, Middleton.’ 

‘But,’ said the doctor, as he resumed his chair, ‘tell me, 
Bonnycastle, how you will possibly manage to lick such a cub 
into shape, when you do not resort to flogging?’ 

‘I have no opinion of flogging, and therefore I do not re- 
sort to it. The fact is, I was at Harrow myself, and was 
rather a Pickle. I was called up as often as most boys in the 
school, and I perfectly recollect that eventually I cared noth- 
ing for a flogging. I had become case-hardened. It is 
the least effective part that you can touch a boy upon. It 
leaves nothing behind to refresh their memory.’ 

‘I should have thought otherwise.’ 

‘My dear Middleton, I can produce more effect by one 
caning than twenty floggings. Observe, you flog upon a 
part for the most part quiescent ; but you cane upon all parts, 
from the head to the heels. Now, when once the first sting 
of the birch is over, then a dull sensation comes over the 
part, and the pain after that is nothing ; whereas a good sound 
caning leaves sores and bruises in every part, and on all the 
parts which are required for muscular action. After a flog- 
ging, a boy may run out in the hours of recreation, and join 
his playmates as well as ever, but a good caning tells a very 
different tale ; he cannot move one part of his body without 
being reminded for days by the pain of the punishment he 
has undergone, and he is very careful how he is called up 
again.’ 

‘My dear sir, I really had an idea that you were excessively 
lenient,’ replied Middleton, laughing; ‘I am glad that I am 
under a mistake.’ 

‘Look at that cub, doctor, sitting there more like a brute 
than a reasonable being; do you imagine that I could ever 
lick it into shape without strong measures? At the same 
time, allow me to say that I consider my system by far the 
best. At the public schools, punishment is no check ; it is so 
trifling that it is derided : with me punishment is punishment 
in the true sense of the word, and the consequence is that it 
is much more seldom resorted to.’ 

‘You are a terrorist, Bonnycastle.’ 

‘The two strongest impulses in our natures are fear and 
love. In theory, acting upon the latter is very beautiful ; but 

21 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


in practice, I never found it to answer, and for the best of ■ 
reasons, our self-love is stronger than our love for others. • 
Now I never yet found fear to fail, for the very same reason 
that the other does, because with fear we act upon self-love, y 
and nothing else.’ 

And yet we have many now who would introduce a system 
of schooling without correction; and who maintain that the 
present system is degrading.’ 

‘There are a great many fools in this world, doctor.’ 

‘That reminds me of this boy’s father,’ replied Dr. 
Middleton; who then detailed to the pedagogue the idiosyn- 
crasy of Mr. Easy, and all the circumstances attending Jack 
being sent to his school. 

‘There is no time to be lost then, doctor. I must conquer 
this young gentleman before his parents call to see him. 
Depend upon it, in a week I will have him obedient and well 
broke in.’ 

Dr. Middleton wished Jack good-bye, and told him to be a 
good boy. Jack did not vouchsafe to answer. ‘Never mind, 
doctor, he will be more polished next time you call here, de- 
pend upon it.’ And the doctor departed. 

Although Mr. Bonnycastle was severe, he was very | 
judicious. Mischief of all kinds was visited but by slender | 
punishment, such as being kept in at playhours, etc. ; and he ’ 
seldom interfered with the boys for fighting, although he \ 
checked decided oppression. The great sine qua non with ^ 
him was attention to their studies. He soon discovered the j 
capabilities of his pupils, and he forced them accordingly; 
but the idle boy, the bird who ‘could sing and would’nt sing,’ 
received no mercy. The consequence was that he turned j 
out the cleverest boys, and his conduct was so uniform and 
unvarying in its tenor, that if he was feared when they were ! 
under his control, he was invariably liked by those whom I 
he had instructed, and they continued his friends in after-life, l 

Mr. Bonnycastle at once perceived that it was no use coax- 
ing our hero, and that fear was the only attribute by which he 
could be controlled. So, as soon as Dr. Middleton had j 
quitted the room, he addressed him in a commanding tone, 
‘Now, boy, what is your name?’ 

Jack started; he looked up at his master, perceived his eye 
22 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


fixed upon him, and a countenance not to be played with. 
Jack was no fool, and somehow or another, the discipline he 
had received from his father had given him some intimation 
of what was to come. All this put together induced Jack to 
condescend to answer, with his forefinger between his teethe 
‘Johnny.’ 

‘And what is your other name, sir?’ 

Jack, who appeared to repent his condescension, did not at 
first answer, but he looked again in Mr. Bonnycastle’s face, 
and then round the room, there was no one to help him, and 
he could not help himself, so he replied ‘Easy.’ 

‘Do you know why you are sent to school?’ 

‘Scalding father.’ 

‘No; you are sent to learn to read and write.’ 

‘But I won’t read and write,’ replied Jack sulkily. 

‘Yes, you will ; and you are going to read your letters now, 
directly.’ 

Jack made no answer. Mr. Bonnycastle opened a sort of 
book-case, and displayed to John’s astonished view a series of 
canes, ranged up and down like billiard cues, and continued, 
‘Do you know what those are for?’ 

Jack eyed them wistfully; he had some faint idea that he 
was sure to be better acquainted with them, but he made no 
answer. 

‘They are to teach little boys to read and write, and now I 
am going to teach you. You’ll soon learn. Look now here,’ 
continued Mr. Bonnycastle, opening a book with large type, 
and taking a capital at the head of a chapter, about half an 
inch long. ‘Do you see that letter?’ 

‘Yes,’ replied Johnny, turning his eyes away, and picking 
his fingers. 

‘Well, that is the letter B. Do you see it? look at it so 
that you may know it again. That’s the letter B. Now tell 
me what letter that is?’ 

Jack now determined to resist, so he made no answer. 

‘So you cannot tell; well, then, we will try what one of 
these little fellows will do,’ said Mr. Bonnycastle, taking 
down a cane. ‘Observe, Johnny, that’s the letter B. Now, 
what letter is that? Answer me directly.’ 

‘I won’t learn to read and write.’ 


^3 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


'Whack came the cane on Johnny’s shoulders, who burst 
out into a roar as he writhed with pain. 

Mr. Bonnycastle waited a few seconds. 'That’s the letter 
B. Now tell me, sir, directly, what that letter is?’ 

'I’ll tell my war.’ Whack ! 'O law 1 O law !’ 

'What letter is that?’ 

Johnny, with his mouth open, panting, and the tears on his 
cheeks, answered indignantly, 'Stop till I tell Sarah.’ 

Whack came the cane again, and a fresh burst from 
Johnny. 

‘What letter’s that?’ 

‘I won’t tell,’ roared Johnny ; 'I won’t tell— that I won’t.’ 

Whack — whack — whack, and a pause. 'I told you before, 
that’s the letter B. What letter is that? Tell me directly.’ 

Johnny, by way of reply, made a snatch at the cane. 
Whack— he caught it, certainly, but not exactly as he would 
have wished. Johnny then snatched up the book, and dashed 
iit to the corner of the room. Whack, whack. Johnny 
attempted to seize Mr. Bonnycastle with his teeth. Whack, 
whack, whack, whack; and Johnny fell on the carpet, and 
roared with pain. Mr. Bonnycastle then left him for a little 
while, to recover himself, and sat down. 

At last Johnny’s exclamations settled down in deep sobs, 
and then Mr. Bonnycastle said to him, 'Now, Johnny, you 
perceive that you must do as you are bid, or else you will have 
more beating. Get up immediately. Do you hear, sir?’ 

Somehow or another, Johnny, without intending it, stood 
upon his feet. 

'That’s a good boy; now you see, by getting up as you 
were bid, you have not been beaten. Now, Johnny, you 
must go and bring the book from where you threw it down. 
Do you hear, sir ? bring it directly !’ 

Johnny looked at Mr. Bonnycastle and the cane. With 
every intention to refuse, Johnny picked up the book and laid 
it on the table. 

'That’s a good boy; now we will find the letter B. Here 
it is : now Johnny, tell me what that letter is.’ 

Johnny made no answer. 

'Tell me directly, sir,’ said Mr. Bonnycastle, raising his 
cane up in the air. The appeal was too powerful. Johnny 

24 



Johnny roared with pain 





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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


eyed the cane; it moved, it was coming. Breathlessly he 
shrieked out, ‘B’ ! 

‘Very well indeed, Johnny— very well. Now your first 
I lesson is over, and you shall go to bed. You have learnt 
more than you think for. To-morrow we will begin again, 
j Now we’ll put the cane by.’ 

I Mr. Bonnycastle rang the bell, and desired Master Johnny 
1 to be put to bed, in a room by himself, and not to give him 
j any supper, as hunger would, the next morning, much 
facilitate his studies. Pain and hunger alone will tame 
I brutes, and the same remedy must be applied to conquer those 
, passions in man which assimilate him with brutes. ' Johnny 
! was conducted to bed, although it was but six o’clock. He 
was not only in pain, but his ideas were confused; and no 
wonder, after all his life having been humoured and indulged 
|i — never punished until the day before. After all the caresses 
|; of his mother and Sarah, which he never knew the value of — 
after stuffing himself all day long, and being tempted to eat 
[ till he turned away in satiety, to find himself without his 
* mother, without Sarah, without supper— covered with weals 
j and, what was worse than all, without his own way. No 
1 wonder Johnny was confused ; at the same time that he was 
I subdued; and, as Mr. Bonnycastle had truly told him, he 
I had learned more than he had any idea of. And what would 
I Mrs. Easy have said, had she known all this— and Sarah too? 
And Mr. Easy, with his rights of man? At the very time that 
Johnny was having the devil driven out of him, they were 
consoling themselves with the idea that, at all events, there was 
no birch used at Mr. Bonnycastle’s, quite losing sight of the 
fact, that as there are more ways of killing a dog besides 
hanging him, so are there more ways of teaching than a 
posteriori. Happy in their ignorance, they all went fast 
asleep, little dreaming that Johnny was already so far ad- 
vanced in knowledge as to have a tolerable comprehension 
of the mystery of cane. As for Johnny, he had cried himself 
to sleep at least six hours before them. 


! 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER VI 


IN WHICH JACK MAKES ESSAY OF HIS FATHER^S SUBLIME 
PHILOSOPHY, AND ARRIVES VERY NEAR TO TRUTH AT LAST 



HE next morning Master Jack Easy was not only very 


sore but very hungry, and as Mr. Bonnycastle informed 
him that he would not only have plenty of cane, but also no 
breakfast, if he did not learn his letters, Johnny had wisdom 
enough to say the whole alphabet, for which he received a 
great deal of praise, the which if he did not duly appreciate, 
he at all events infinitely preferred to beating. Mr. Bonny- 
castle perceived that he had conquered the boy by one hour’s 
well-timed severity. He therefore handed him over to the 
ushers in the school, and as they were equally empowered to 
administer the needful impulse, Johnny very soon became a 
very tractable boy. 

It may be imagined that the absence of Johnny was severely 
felt at home, but such was not the case. In the first place, 
Dr. Middleton had pointed out to Mrs. Easy that there was 
no flogging at the school, and that the punishment received by 
Johnny from his father would very likely be repeated— and in 
the next, although Mrs. Easy thought that she never could 
have survived the parting with her own son, she soon found 
out that she was much happier without him. A spoilt child 
is always a source of anxiety and worry, and after Johnny’s | 
departure, Mrs. Easy found a quiet and repose much mores 
suited to her disposition. Gradually she weaned herself^ 
from him, and, satisfied with seeing him occasionally and 
hearing the reports of Dr. Middleton, she at last was quite 
reconciled to his being at school, and not coming back except 
during the holidays. John Easy made great progress; he 
had good natural abilities, and Mr. Easy rubbed his hands 
when he saw the doctor, saying, ‘Yes, let them have him for a , 
year or two longer, and then I’ll finish him myself.’ Each i 
vacation he had attempted to instil into Johnny’s mind the ' 
equal rights of man. Johnny appeared to pay but little ' 
attention to his father’s discourses, but evidently showed that I 
they were not altogether thrown away, as he helped himself I 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


to everything he wanted, without asking leave. And thus 
was our hero educated until he arrived at the age of sixteen, 
when he was a stout, good-looking boy, with plenty to say 
for himself,— indeed when it suited his purpose, he could 
out-talk his father. 

Nothing pleased Mr. Easy so much as Jack’s loquacity. 
That’s right; argue the point, Jack— argue the point, boy,’ 
would he say, as Jack disputed with his mother. And then he 
would turn to the doctor, rubbing his hands, and observe, 
‘Depend upon it. Jack will be a great, a very great man.’ 
And then he would call Jack and give him a guinea for his 
cleverness; and at last Jack thought it a very clever thing to 
argue. He never would .attempt to argue with Mr. Bonny- 
castle because he was aware that Mr. Bonny castle’s argu- 
ments were too strong for him, but he argued with all the 
boys until it ended in a fight, which decided the point ; and he 
sometimes argued with the ushers. In short, at the time we 
now speak of, which was at the breaking up of the Mid- 
summer holidays. Jack was as full of argument as he was 
fond of it. He would argue the point to the point of a 
needle, and he would divide that point into as many as there 
were days of the year, and argue upon each. In short, there 
was no end to Jack’s arguing the point, although there 
seldom was point to his argument. 

Jack had been fishing in the river, without any success, for 
a whole morning, and observed a large pond which had the 
appearance of being well stocked— he cleared the park palings 
and threw in his line. He had pulled up several fine fish, 
when he was accosted by the proprietor, accompanied by a 
couple of keepers. 

‘May I request the pleasure of your name, young gentle- 
man ?’ said the proprietor to Jack. 

Now Jack was always urbane and polite. 

‘Certainly, sir; my name is Easy, very much at your 
service.’ 

‘And you appear to me to be taking it very easy,’ replied 
the gentleman. ‘Pray, sir, may I inquire whether you are 
aware that you are trespassing?’ 

‘The word trespass, my dear sir,’ replied Jack, ‘will admit 
of much argument, and I will divide it into three heads. It 

27 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


implies, according to the conventional meaning, coming with- 
out permission upon the land or property of another. Now, 
sir, the question may all be resolved in the following. Was 
not the world made for all? and has any one, or any portion 
of its inhabitants, an exclusive right to claim any part of it as 
his property? If you please, I have laid down the proposition 
and we will now argue the point.’ 

The gentleman who accosted Jack had heard of Mr. Easy 
and his arguments; he was a humourist, and more inclined 
to laugh than to be angry ; at the same time that he considered 
it necessary to show Jack that under existing circumstances 
they were not tenable. 

‘But, Mr. Easy, allowing the trespass on the property to be 
venial, surely you do not mean to say that you are justified in 
taking my fish; I bought the fish, and stocked the pond, 
and have fed them ever since. You cannot deny but that 
they are private property, and that to take them is a 
theft ?’ 

‘That will again admit of much ratiocination, my dear sir,’ 
replied Jack; ‘but, I beg your pardon, I have a fish.’ Jack 
pulled up a large carp, much to the indignation of the keepers, 
and to the amusement of their master, unhooked it, placed it 
in his basket, renewed his bait with the greatest sang froid, 
and then throwing in his line, resumed his discourse. ‘As I 
was observing, my dear sir,’ continued Jack, ‘that will admit 
of much ratiocination. All the creatures of the earth were 
given to man for his use — man means mankind — they were 
never intended to be made a monopoly of. Water is also the 
gift of Heaven, and meant for the use of all. We now come to 
the question how far the fish are your property. If the fish 
only bred on purpose to please you, and make you a present 
of their stock, it might then require a different line of argu- 
ment; but as in breeding they only acted in obedience to an 
instinct with which they are endowed on purpose that they 
may supply man, I submit to you that you cannot prove these 
fish to be yours more than mine. As for feeding with the 
idea that they were your own, that is not an unusual case in 
in this world, even when a man is giving bread and butter to 
his children. Further — but I have another bite — I beg vour 

pardon, my dear sir— Ah! he’s off again ’ 

28 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘Then, Mr. Easy, you mean to say that the world and its 
contents are made for all.’ 

‘Exactly, sir, that is my father’s opinion, who is a very 
great philosopher.’ 

‘How then does your father account for some po^ssessing 
property and others being without it?’ 

‘Because those who are the strongest have deprived those 
who are weaker.’ 

‘But would not that be always the case even if we were in 
that state of general inheritance which you have supposed. 
For instance, allowing two men to chase the same animal, and 
both to come up to it at the same time, would not the strongest 
bear it off?’ 

‘I grant that, sir.’ 

‘Well, then, where is your equality?’ 

‘That does not disprove that men were not intended to be 
equal; it only proves that they are not so. Neither does it 
disprove that everything was not made for the benefit of all, 
it only proves that the strongest will take advantage of the 
weak, which is very natural.’ 

‘Oh! you grant that to be very natural. Well, Mr. Easy, 
I am glad to perceive that we are of one mind, and I trust we 
shall continue so. You’ll observe that I and my keepers being 
three, we are the strong party in this instance, and admitting 
your argument, that the fish are as much yours as mine, still I 
take advantage of my strength to repossess myself of them, 
which is, as you say, very natural — James, take those fish.’ 

‘If you please,’ interrupted Jack, ‘we will argue that 
point—’ 

‘Not at all, I will act according to your own arguments— I 
have the fish, but I now mean to have more— that fishing-rod 
is as much mine as yours, and being the stronger party, I will 
take possession of it— James, William, take that fishing-rod, 
it is ours.’ 

‘I presume you will first allow me to observe,’ replied Jack, 
‘that although I have expressed my opinion that the earth and 
the animals on it were made for us all, I never yet have 
asserted that what a man creates by himself, or has created 
for him for a consideration, is not his own property.’ 

‘I beg your pardon : the trees that that rod .was made from 
29 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


were made for us all, and if you, or any one for you, have 
thought proper to make it into a rod, it is no more my fault 
than it is that I have been feeding the fish, with the supposi- 
tion that they were my own. Everything being common, 
and it being but natural that the strong should take advantage 
of the weak, I must take that rod as my property, until I am 
dispossessed by one more powerful. Moreover, being the 
stronger party, and having possession of this land, which y«u 
say does not belong to me more than to you — I also shall 
direct my keepers to see you off this property. James, take 
the rod, see Mr. Easy over the park palings. Mr. Easy, I 
wish you a good morning.’ 

‘Sir, I beg your pardon, you have not yet heard all my 
arguments,’ replied Jack, who did not approve of the con- 
clusions drawn. 

‘I have no time to hear more,Mr. Easy ; I wish you a good 
morning.’ And the proprietor departed, leaving Jack in 
company with the keepers. 

‘I’ll trouble you for that rod, master,’ said William. James 
was very busy stringing the fish through the gills upon a 
piece of osier. 

‘At all events you will hear reason,’ said Jack— ‘I have 
arguments—’ 

‘I never heard no good arguments in favour of poaching,’ 
interrupted the keeper. 

‘You’re an insolent fellow,’ replied Jack. ‘It is by paying 
such vagabonds as you that people are able to be guilty of 
injustice.’ 

‘It ’s by paying us that the land an ’t poached— and if there 
be some excuse for a poor devil who is out of work, there be 
none for you, who call yourself a gentleman.’ 

‘According to his ’count, as we be all equal, he be no more 
a gentleman than we be.’ 

‘Silence, you blackguard, I shall not condescend to argue 
with such as you : if I did I could prove that you are a set of 
base slaves, who have just as much right to this property as 
your master or I have.’ 

‘As you have, I daresay, master.’ 

‘As I have, you scoundrel ! this pond is as much my prop- 
erty, and so are the fish in it, as they are of your master, who 
has usurped the right.^ 


30 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


^I say, James, what do you say, shall we put the young 
gentleman in possession of his property?’ said William, 
winking to the other. 

James took the hint, they seized Jack by the arms and 
legs and soused him into the pond. Jack rose after a deep 
submersion, and floundered on shore blowing and sputtering. 
But in the meantime the keepers had walked away, carrying 
with them the rod and line, fish and tin can of bait, laughing 
loudly at the practical joke which they had played our hero. 

Well,’ thought Jack, 'either here must be some mistake 
in my father’s philosophy, or else this is a very wicked world. 
I shall submit this case to my father.’ 

And Jack received this reply 'I have told you before. 

Jack, that these important truths will not at present be ad- 
mitted— but it does not the less follow that they are true. 
This is the age of iron, in which might has become right— but 
the time will come when these truths will be admitted, and 
your father’s name will be more celebrated than that of any 
philosopher of ancient days. Recollect, Jack, that although 
in preaching against wrong and advocating the rights of man, 
you will be treated as a martyr, it is still your duty to per- 
severe, and if you are dragged through all the horse-ponds in 
the kingdom, never give up your argument.’ 

‘That I never will, sir,’ replied Jack; ‘but the next time I 
argue it shall be, if possible, with power on my side, and, at 
all events, not quite so near a pond.’ 

‘I think,’ said Mrs. Easy, who had been a silent listener, 
‘that Jack had better fish in the river, and then if he catches 
no fish, at all events he will not be soused in the water, and 
spoil his clothes.’ 

But Mrs. Easy was no philosopher. 

A few days afterwards. Jack discovered, one fine morning, 
on the other side of a hedge, a summer apple-tree bearing 
tempting fruit, and he immediately broke through the hedge, 
and climbing the tree, as our first mother did before him, he 
culled the fairest and did eat. 

‘I say, you sir, what are you doing there?’ cried a rough 
voice. 

Jack looked down, and perceived a stout, thickset personage 
in grey coat and red waistcoat, standing underneath him. 

31 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


/Don^t you see what I’m about?’ replied Jack, ‘I’m eating 
apples ; shall I throw you down a few ?’ 

‘Thank you kindly— the fewer that are pulled the better; 
perhaps as you are so free to give them to others as well as to 
help yourself, you may think that they are your own 
property !’ 

‘Not a bit more my property than they are yours, my good 
man.’ 

‘I guess that’s something like the truth; but you are not 
quite at the truth yet, my lad ; those apples are mine, and I’ll 
trouble you to come down as fast as you please ; when you’re 
down we can then settle our accounts ; and,’ continued the 
man, shaking his cudgel, ‘depend upon it you shall have your 
receipt in full.’ 

Jack did not much like the appearance of things. 

‘My good man,’ said he, ‘it is quite a prejudice on your 
part to imagine that apples were not given, as well as all other 
fruit, for the benefit of us all— they are common property, 
believe me.’ 

‘That’s a matter of opinion, my lad, and I may be allowed 
to have my own.’ 

‘You’ll find it in the Bible,’ says Jack. 

‘I never did yet, and I’ve read it through and through all, 
bating the ’Pocryfar.’ 

‘Then,’ said Jack, ‘go home and fetch the Bible, and I’ll 
prove it to you.’ 

‘I suspect you’ll not wait till I come back again. No, no; 
I have lost plenty of apples, and have long wanted to find the 
robbers out ; now I’ve caught one I’ll take care that he don’t 
’scape without apple-sauce, at all events— so come down, you 
young thief, come down directly— or it will be all the worse 
for you.’ 

‘Thank you,’ said Jack, ‘but I am very well here. I will, 
if you please, argue the point from where I am.’ 

‘I’ve no time to argue the point, my lad. I’ve plenty to do, 
but do not think I’ll let you off. If you don’t choose to come 
down, why then you may stay there, and I’ll answer for it, as 
soon as work is done I shall find you safe enough.’ 

‘What can be done,’ thought Jack, ‘with a man who will 
not listen to argument? What a world is this !— however, 
he’ll not find me here when he comes back, I’ve a notion.’ 

32 



Floundered on shore blowing and spluttering. 


I 




MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


But in this Jack was mistaken. The farmer walked to 
the hedge, and called to a boy, who took his orders and ran to 
the farm-house. In a minute or two a large bull-dog was 
seen bounding along the orchard to his master. ‘Mark him, 
Caesar,’ said the farmer to the dog, ‘mark him.’ The dog 
crouched down on the grass, with his head up, and eyes 
glaring at Jack, showing a range of teeth that drove all our 
hero’s philosophy out of his head. 

‘I can’t wait here, but Caesar can, and I will tell you, as a 
friend, that if he gets hold of you, he’ll not leave a limb of you 
together, — when work’s done I’ll come back’; so saying, the 
farmer walked off, leaving Jack and the dog to argue the 
point, if so inclined. What a sad jade must philosophy be, 
to put her votaries in such predicaments! 

Aft^r a while the dog laid his head down and closed his 
eyes, as if asleep, but Jack observed that at the least move- 
ment on his part one eye was seen to partially unclose, so 
Jack, like a prudent man, resolved to remain where he was. 
He picked a few more apples, for it was his dinner-time, and 
as he chewed he ruminated. 

Jack had been but a few minutes ruminating before he was 
interrupted by another ruminating animal, no less a person- 
age than a bull, who had been turned out with full possession 
of the orchard, and who now advanced, bellowing occasion- 
ally, and tossing his head at the sight of Caesar, whom he 
considered as much a trespasser as his master had our hero. 
Caesar started on his legs and faced the bull, who advanced 
pawing, with his tail up in the air. When within a few yards 
the bull made a rush at the dog, who evaded him and attacked 
him in return, and thus did the warfare continue until the 
opponents were already at some distance from the apple-tree. 
Jack prepared for immediate flight, but unfortunately the 
combat was carried on by the side of the hedge at which Jack 
had gained admission. Never mind, thought Jack, there are 
two sides to every field, and although the other hedge joined 
on the garden near to the farm-house, there was no option. 
‘At all events,’ said Jack, ‘I’ll try it. Jack was slipping 
down the trunk, when he heard a tremendous roar; the bull- 
dog had been tossed by the bull ; he was then high in the air, 
and Jack saw him fall on the other side of the hedge; and 
the bull was thus celebrating his victory with a flourish of 

33 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


trumpets. Upon which Jack, perceiving that he was relieved 
from his sentry, slipped down the rest of the tree and took to 
his heels. Unfortunately for Jack, the bull saw him, and, 
flushed with victory, he immediately set up another roar, and 
bounded after Jack. Jack perceived his danger, and fear 
gave him wings; he not only flew over the orchard, but he 
flew over the hedge, which was about five feet high, just as 
the bull drove his head into it. Look before you leap is an 
old proverb. Had Jack done so, he would have done better; 
but as there were cogent reasons to be offered in extenuation 
of our philosopher, we shall say no more, but merely state that 
Jack, when he got on the other side of the hedge, found 
that he had pitched into a small apiary, and had upset two 
hives of bees, who resented the intrusion; and Jack had 
hardly time to get upon his legs before he found them very 
busy stinging him in all quarters. All that Jack could do 
was to run for it, but the bees flew faster than he could run, 
and Jack was mad with pain, when he stumbled, half-blinded, 
over the brickwork of a well. Jack could not stop his pitch- 
ing into the well, but he seized the iron chain as it struck 
him across the face. Down went Jack, and round went the 
windlass, and after a rapid descent of forty feet our hero 
found himself under water, and no longer troubled with the 
bees, who, whether they had lost scent of their prey from his 
rapid descent, or being notoriously clever insects, acknowl- 
edged the truth of the adage, ‘leave well alone,' had certainly 
left Jack with no other companion than Truth. Jack rose 
from his immersion, and seized the rope to which the chain of 
the bucket was made fast — it had all of it been unwound from 
the windlass, and therefore it enabled Jack to keep his head 
above water. After a few seconds Jack felt something 
against his legs, it was the bucket, about two feet under tne 
water; Jack put his feet into it and found himself pretty 
comfortable, for the water, after the sting of the bees and 
the heat he had been put into by the race with the bull, was 
quite cool and refreshing. 

‘At all events,' thought Jack, ‘if it had not been for the bull, 
I should have been watched by the dog, and then thrashed 
by the farmer ; but then again, if it had not been for the bull, 
I should not have tumbled among the bees ; and if it had not 

34 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


been for the bees, I should not have tumbled into the well; 
and if it had not been for the chain, I should have been 
drowned. Such has been the chain of events, all because I 
wanted to eat an apple. 

‘However, I have got rid of the farmer, and the dog, and 
the bull, and the bees — all’s well that ends well ; but how the 
devil am I to get out of the well? — All creation appears to 
have conspired against the rights of man. As my father said, 
this is an iron age, and here I am swinging to an iron chain. 

We have given the whole of Jack’s soliloquy, as it will 
prove that Jack was no fool, although he was a bit of a philos- 
opher; and a man who could reason so well upon cause and 
effect, at the bottom of a well up to his neck in water, showed 
a good deal of presence of mind. But, if Jack’s mind had 
been a little twisted by his father’s philosophy, it had still 
sufficient strength and elasticity to recover itself in due time. 
Had Jack been a common personage, we should never have 
selected him for our hero. 


CHAPTER VH 

IN WHICH JACK MAKES SOME VERY SAGE REFLECTIONS, AND 
COMES TO A VERY UNWISE DECISION. 

A fter all, it must be acknowledged that although there 
. are cases of distress in which a well may become a place 
of refuge, a well is not at all calculated for a prolonged res- 
idence — so thought Jack. After he had been there some 
fifteen minutes, his teeth chattered, and his limbs trembled; 
he felt a numbness all over, and he thought it high time to 
call for assistance, which at first he would not, as he was 
afraid he should be pulled up to encounter the indignation of 
the farmer and his family. Jack was arranging his jaws for 
a halloo, when he felt the chain pulled up, and he slowly 
emerged from the water. At first he heard complaints of the 
weight of the bucket, at which Jack was not surprised, then 
heard a tittering and laughing between two parties, and soon 
afterwards he mounted up gaily. At last his head appeared 

35 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


above the low wall, and he was about to extend his arms so as 
to secure a position on it, when those who were working at 
the windlass beheld him. It was a heavy farming man and a 
maid-servant. 

‘Thank you,’ said Jack. 

One never should be too quick in returning thanks ; the girl 
screamed and let go the winch, the man, frightened, did not 
hold it fast ; it slipped from his grasp, whirled round, struck 
him under the chin and threw him over it headlong, and 
before the ‘Thank you’ was fairly out of Jack’s lips, down he 
went again like lightning to the bottom. Fortunately for 
Jack, he had not yet let go the chain, or he might have struck 
the sides and have been killed ; as it was he was merely soused 
a second time, and in a minute or two regained his former 
position. 

‘This is mighty pleasant,’ thought Jack, as he clapped his 
wet hat once more on his head ; ‘at all events, they can’t now 
plead ignorance, they must know that I’m here.’ 

In the meantime the girl ran into the kitchen, threw herself 
down on a stool from which she reeled off in a fit upon sundry 
heaps of dough waiting to be baked in the oven, which were 
laid to rise on the floor before the fire. 

‘Mercy on me, what is the matter with Susan?’ exclaimed 
the farmer’s wife. ‘Here— where’s Mary — where’s John?— 
Deary me, if the bread won’t all be turned to pancakes.’ 

John soon followed, holding his under jaw in his hand, 
looking very dismal and very frightened, for two reasons, one 
because he thought that his jaw was broken, and the other, 
because he thought he had seen the devil. 

‘Mercy on us, what is the matter?’ exclaimed the farmer’s 
wife again. ‘Mary, Mary, Mary!’ screamed she, beginning 
to be frightened herself, for with all her efforts she could not 
remove Susan from the bed of dough, where she lay senseless 
and heavy as lead. Mary answered to her mistress’s loud 
appeal, and with her assistance they raised up Susan, but as 
for the bread, there were no hopes of it ever rising again. 
‘Why don’t you come here and help Susan, John ?’ cried Mary. 

‘Aw-yaw-awl’ was all the reply of John, who had had 
quite enough of helping Susan, and who continued to hold his 
head, as it were, in his hand. 

36 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


'What’s the matter here, missus?’ exclaimed the farmer, 
coming in. ‘Highty-tighty, what ails Susan, and what ails 
you?’ continued the farmer, turning to John. ‘Dang it, but 
everything seems to go wrong this blessed day. First there 
be all the apples stolen— then there be , all the hives turned 
topsy-turvy in the garden, — then there be Caesar with his 
flank opened by the bull, — then there be the bull broken 
through the hedge and tumbled into the saw-pit,— and now I 
come to get more help to drag him out, I find one woman 
dead like, and John looks as if he had seen the devil.’ 

‘Aw-yaw-aw!’ replied John nodding his head very signif- 
icantly. 

‘One would think that the devil had broke loose to-day. 
What is it, John? Have you seen him, and has Susan seen 
him?’ 

‘Aw-yaw.’ 

‘He’s stopped your jaw then, at all events, and I thought 
the devil himself wouldn’t have done that — we shall get 
nothing of you. Is that wench coming to her senses?’ 

‘Yes, yes, she’s better now. — Susan, what’s the matter?’ 

‘Oh, oh, ma’am! the well, the well—’ 

‘The well ! Something wrong there, I suppose : well, I will 
go and see.’ 

The farmer trotted off to the well ; he perceived the bucket 
was at the bottom and all the rope out ; he looked about him, 
and then he looked into the well. Jack, who had become very 
impatient, had been looking up some time for the assistance 
which he expected would have come sooner; the round face 
of the farmer occasioned a partial eclipse of the round disk 
which bounded his view, just as one of the satellites of 
Jupiter sometimes obscures the face of the planet round which 
he revolves. 

‘Here I am,’ cried Jack, ‘get me up quick, or I shall be 
dead’ ; and what Jack said was true, for he was quite done up 
by having been so long down, although his courage had not 
failed him. 

‘Dang it, but there be somebody fallen into the well,’ cried 
the farmer; ‘no end to mishaps this day. Well, we must get 
a Christian out of a well afore we get a bull out of a saw-pit, 
so I’ll go call the men.’ 


37 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


In a very short time the men who were assembled round 
the saw-pit were brought to the well. 

^Down below there, hold on now.’ 

'Never fear,’ cried Jack. 

'Away went the winch, and once more Jack had an ex- 
tended horizon to survey. As soon as he was at the top, the 
men hauled him over the bricks and laid him down upon the 
ground, for Jack’s strength had failed him. 

'Dang it, if it bean’t that chap who was on my apple-tree,’ 
cried the farmer— ‘howsomever be must not die for stealing a 
few apples; lift him up, lads, and take him in— he is dead 
with cold— no wonder.’ 

The farmer led the way, and the men carried Jack into the 
house, when the farmer gave him a glass of brandy; this 
restored Jack’s circulation, and in a short time he was all right 
again. 

After some previous conversation, in which Jack narrated 
all that had happened, 'What may be your name?’ inquired 
the farmer. 

'My name is Easy,’ replied Jack. 

'What, be you the son of Mr. Easy, of Forest Hill?’ 

'Yes.’ 

'Dang it, he be my landlord, and a right good landlord too 
—why didn’t you say so when you were up in the apple-tree? 
You might have picked the whole orchard and welcome.’ 

'My dear sir,’ replied Jack, who had taken a second glass 
of brandy, and was quite talkative again, 'let this be a warning 
to you, and when a man proposes to argue the point, always, 
in future, listen. Had you waited, I would have proved to 
you most incontestably that you had no more right to the 
apples than I had ; but you would not listen to argument, and 
without discussion we can never arrive at truth. You send 
for your dog, who is ripped up by the bull — the bull breaks his 
leg in a saw-pit — the bee-hives are overturned and you lose 
all your honey— your man John breaks his jaw— your maid 
Susan spoils all the bread— and why? because you would not 
allow me to argue the point.’ 

'Well, Mr. Easy, it be all true that all these mishaps have 
happened because I would not allow you to argue the point, 
perhaps, although, as I rent the orchard from your father, I 

38 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


cannot imagine how you could have proved to me that the 
apples were not mine; but now let’s take your side of the 
question, and I don’t see how you be much better off — you 
get up in a tree for a few apples, with plenty of money to buy 
them if you like — you are kept there by a dog — you are nearly 
gored by a bull— you are stung by the bees, and you tumble 
souse into a well, and are nearly killed a dozen times, and all 
for a few apples not worth twopence.’ 

'All very true, my good man,’ replied Jack; 'but you for- 
get that I, as a philosopher, was defending the rights of man.’ 

'Well, I never knew before that a lad who stole apples 
was called a philosopher— we calls it petty larceny in the 
indictments ; and as for your rights of man, I cannot see how 
they can be defended by doing what’s wrong.’ 

'You do not comprehend the matter, farmer.’ 

'No, I don’t— and I be too old to learn. Master Easy. All 
I have to say is this, you are welcome to all the apples in the 
orchard if you please, and if you prefers, as it seems you do, 
to steal them, instead of asking for them, which I only can 
account for by the reason that they say that “stolen fruit be 
sweetest,” I’ve only to say that I shall give orders that you be 
not interfered with. My chaise be at the door, Master Easy, 
and the man will drive you to your father’s— make my com- 
pliments to him, and say that I’m very sorry that you tumbled 
into our well.’ 

As Jack was much more inclined for bed than argument, 
he wished the farmer good-night, and allowed himself to be 
driven home. 

The pain from the sting of the bees, now that his circula- 
tion had fully returned, was so great, that he was not sorry to 
find Dr. Middleton taking his tea with his father and mother. 
Jack merely said that he had been so unfortunate as to upset 
a hive, and had been severely stung. He deferred the whole 
story till another opportunity. Dr. Middleton prescribed for 
Jack, but on taking his hand found that he was in a high 
fever, which, after the events of the day, was not to be 
wondered at. Jack was bled, and kept his bed for a week, 
by which time he was restored; but during that time. Jack 
had been thinking very seriously, and had made up his mind. 

But we must explain a circumstance which had occurred, 

39 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


which was probably the cause of Jack’s decision. When Jack 
returned on the evening in question, he found seated with his 
father and Dr. Middleton a Captain Wilson, a sort of cousin 
to the family, who but occasionally paid them a visit, for he 
lived at some distance; and having a wife and large family, 
with nothing but his half -pay for their support, he could not 
afford to expend even shoe-leather in compliments. The 
object of this visit on the part of Captain Wilson was to 
request the aid of Mr. Easy. He had succeeded in obtaining 
his appointment to a sloop of war (for he was in the king’s 
service), but was without the means of fitting himself out, 
without leaving his wife and family penniless. He therefore 
came to request Mr. Easy to lend him a few hundred pounds, 
until he should be able, by his prize-money, to repay them. 
Mr. Easy was not a man to refuse such a request, and, always 
having plenty of spare cash at his banker’s, he drew a cheque 
for a thousand pounds, which he gave to Captain Wilson, re- 
questing that he would only repay it at his convenience. 
Captain Wilson wrote an acknowledgment of the debt, 
promising to pay upon his first prize-money, which receipt, 
however binding it might be to a man of honour, was, 
in point of law, about as valuable as if he had agreed 
to pay as soon ‘as the cows came home.’ The affair had been 
just concluded, and Captain. Wilson, had returned, into the 
parlour with Mr. Easy, when Jack returned from his expedi- 
tion. 

Jack greeted Captain Wilson, whom he had long known; 
but, as we before observed, he suffered so much pain that he 
soon retired with Dr. Middleton, and went to bed. 

During a week there is room for much reflection even in a 
lad of fourteen, although at that age we are not much in- 
clined to think. But Jack was in bed; his eyes were so 
swollen with the stings of the bees that he could neither read 
nor otherwise amuse himself ; and he preferred his own 
thoughts to the gabble of Sarah, who attended him; so Jack 
thought, and the result of his cogitations we shall soon bring 
forward. 

It was on the eighth day that Jack left his bed and came 
down into the drawing-room. He then detailed to his father 
the adventures which had taken place, which had obliged him 
to take to his bed. 


40 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


'You see, Jack,’ replied his father, 'it’s just what I told you ; 
the world is so utterly demoralised by what is called social 
compact, and the phalanx supporting it by contributing a 
portion of their unjust possessions for the security of the 
remainder, is so powerful, that any one who opposes it must 
expect to pass the life of a martyr; but martyrs are always 
required previous to any truth, however sublime, being re- 
ceived, and like Abraham, whom I have always considered as 
a great philosopher, I am willing to sacrifice my only son 
in so noble a cause.’ 

, 'That’s all very good on your part, father, but we must 
argue the point a little. If you are as great a philosopher as 
Abraham, I am not quite so dutiful a son as Isaac, whose 
blind obedience, in my opinion, is very contrary to your rights 
of man — but the fact, in few words, is simply this. In promul- 
gating your philosophy, in the short space of two days I 
have been robbed of the fish I caught, and my rod and line — I 
have’ been soused into a fish-pond— I have been frightened 
out of my wits by a bull-dog— been nearly killed by a bull — 
been stung to death by bees, and twice tumbled into a well. 
Now if all that happens in two days, what must I expect to 
suffer in a whole year? It appears to be very unwise to 
attempt making further converts, for people on shore seem 
determined not to listen to reason or argument. But it has 
occurred to me that, although the whole earth has been so 
nefariously divided among the few, the waters at least are the 
property of all. No man claims his share of the sea — every 
one may there plough as he pleases, without being taken 
up for a trespasser. Even war makes no difference; every, 
one may go on as he pleases, and if they meet, it is nothing 
but a neutral ground on which the parties contend. It is, 
then, only upon the ocean that I am likely to find that 
equality and rights of man, which we are so anxious to 
establish on shore ; and therefore I have resolved not to go to 
school again, which I detest, but to go to sea, and propagate 
our opinions as much as I can.’ 

'I cannot listen to that. Jack. In the first place, you must 
return to school ; in the next place, you shall not go to sea.’ 

'Then, father, all I have to say is, that I swear by the rights 
of man I will not go back to school, and that I will go to sea. 
Who and what is to prevent me? Was not I born my own 

41 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


master, has any one a right to dictate to me as if I were not 
his equal ? Have I not as much right to my share of the sea 
as any other mortal ? I stand upon perfect equality,’ continued 
Jack, stamping his right foot on the floor. 

What had Mr. Easy to offer in reply? He must either, 
as a philosopher, have sacrificed his hypothesis, or, as a 
father, have sacrificed his son. Like all philosophers, he pre- 
ferred what he considered as the less important of the two, 
he sacrificed his son; but we will do him justice, he did it 
with a sigh. 

^Jack, you shall, if you wish it, go to sea.’ 

*That of course,’ replied Jack, with the air of a conqueror ; 
hut the question is, with whom? Now it has occurred to me 
that Captain Wilson has just been appointed to a ship, and I 
should like to sail with him.’ 

'I will write to him,’ said Mr. Easy, mournfully,hut I 
should have liked to have felt his head first’ ; and thus was 
the matter arranged. 

The answer from Captain. Wilson was, of course, in the 
affirmative, and he promised' that he would treat Jack as his 
own son. 

Our hero mounted, his father’s horse, and rode* off to Mr. 
Bonnycastle. 

T am going to sea, Mr. Bonnycastle.’ 

The very best thing for you, ’replied Mr. Bonnycastle. 

Our hero met Dr. Middleton. 

T am going to sea. Dr. Middleton.’ 

The very best thing for you,’ replied, the doctor 

T am going to sea, mother,’ said John. 

To sea, John, to: sea; no, no, dear John, you are not going 
to sea,’ replied Mrs. Easy with horror. 

'Yes, I am ; father has agreed, and says he will obtain your 
consent.’ 

‘My consent j Oh, my dear, dear boy!’— and Mrs. Easy 
wept bitterly, as Rachel mourning for her children. 


42 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER VHI 

IN WHICH MR. EASY HAS HIS FIRST LESSON AS TO ZEAL 
IN HIS majesty's service. 

A S there was no time to lose, our hero very soon bade 
YA. adieu to his paternal roof, as the phrase is, and found 
his way down to Portsmouth. As Jack had plenty of money, 
and was very much pleased at finding himself his own master, 
he was in-, no hurry to join his ship, and five or six com- 
panions not very creditable, whom either Jack had picked up, 
or had picked up Jack, and who lived upon him, strongly 
advised him to put it off until the very last moment. As this 
advice happened to coincide with Jack's opinion, our hero 
was three weeks at Portsmouth before any one knew of his 
arrival, but at last Captain Wilson received a letter from Mr. 
Easy, by which he found that Jack had left home at the period 
we have mentioned, and he desired the first lieutenant to 
make inquiries, as he was afraid that some accident might 
have happened to him. As Mr. Sawbridge, the first lieuten- 
ant, happened to be going on shore on the same evening for 
the last tirne previous to the ship’s sailing, he looked into the 
Blue Posts, George and Fountain Inns, to inquire if there was 
such a person arrived as Mr. Easy. ^Oh yes,’ replied the 
waiter at the Fountain, — ‘Mr. Easy has been here three weeks.’ 

‘The devil he has,’ roared Mr. Sawbridge, with all the 
indignation* of a first lieutenant, defrauded three weeks of a 
midshipman ; ‘where is he ; in the coffee-room ?’ 

‘Oh dear no, sir,’ replied the waiter, ‘Mr. Easy has the 
front apartments on the first floor.’ 

‘Well, then, show me up to the first floor.’ 

‘May I request the pleasure of your name, sir?’ said the 
waiter. 

‘First lieutenants don’t send up their names to midshipmen,’ 
replied Mr. Sawbridge; ‘he shall soon know who I am.’ 

At this reply, the waiter walked upstairs, followed by Mr. 
Sawbridge, and threw open the door. 

‘A gentleman wishes to see you, sir,’ said the waiter. 

‘Desire him to walk in,’ said Jack; ‘and, waiter, mind 

43 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


that the punch is a little better than it was yesterday ; I have 
asked two more gentlemen to dine here.’ 

In the meantime Mr. Sawbridge, who was not in his 
uniform, had entered, and perceived Jack alone with the 
dinner table laid out in the best style for eight, a considerable 
show of plate for even the Fountain Inn, and everything, 
as well as the apartment itself, according to Mr. Sawbridge’s 
opinion, much more fit for a commander-in-chief than a 
midshipman of a sloop of war. 

Now Mr. Sawbridge was a good officer, one who had 
really worked his way up to the present rank, that is to say, 
he had served seven-and-twenty years, and had nothing but 
his pay. He was a little soured in the service, and certainly 
had an aversion to the young men of family who were now 
fast crowding into it— and with some grounds, as he per- 
ceived his own chance of promotion decrease in the same ratio 
as the numbers increased. He considered that in proportion 
as midshipmen assumed a cleaner and more gentlemanly 
appearance, so did they become more useless, and it may 
therefore be easily imagined that his bile was raised by this 
parade and display in a lad, who was very shortly to be, and 
ought three weeks before to have been, shrinking from his 
frown. Nevertheless, Sawbridge was a good-hearted man, 
although a little envious of luxury, which he could not pretend 
to indulge in himself. 

'May I beg to ask,’ said Jack, who was always remarkably 
polite and gentlemanly in his address, 'in what manner I may 
be of service to you ?’ 

'Yes, sir, you may— by joining your ship immediately. 
And may I beg to ask in return, sir, what is the reason you 
have stayed on shore three weeks without joining her?’ 

Hereupon Jack, who did not much admire the peremptory 
tone of Mr. Sawbridge, and who during* the answer had taken 
a seat, crossed his legs, and played with the gold chain to 
which his watch was secured, after a pause very coolly 
replied — 

'And pray, who are you?’ 

'Who am I, sir?’ replied Sawbridge, jumping out of his 
chair— 'my name is Sawbridge, sir, and I am the first 
lieutenant of the Harpy. Now, sir, you have your answer.’ 

44 


w 



And pray, who are you? 






MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Mr. Sawbridge, who imagined that the name of the first 
lieutenant would strike terror to a culprit midshipman, threw 
himself back in the chair, and assumed an air of importance. 

‘Really, sir,’ replied Jack, ‘what may be your exact situation 
on board, my ignorance of the service will not allow me to 
guess, but if I may judge from your behaviour, you have no 
small opinion of yourself.’ 

‘Look ye, young man, you may not know what a first 
lieutenant is, and I take it for granted that you do not, by 
your behaviour; but depend upon it. I’ll let you know very 
soon. In the meantime, sir, I insist upon it, that you go 
immediately on board.’ 

‘I’m sorry that I cannot comply with your very moderate 
request,’ replied Jack, coolly. ‘I shall go on board when it 
suits my convenience, and I beg that you will give yourself 
no further trouble on my account.’ 

Jack then rang the bell ; the waiter, who had been listening 
outside, immediately entered, and before Mr. Sawbridge, who 
was dumb with astonishment at Jack’s impertinence, could 
have time to reply — 

‘Waiter,’ said Jack, ‘show this gentleman downstairs.’ 

‘By the god of war !’ exclaimed the first lieutenant, ‘but 
I’ll soon show you down to the boat, my young bantam; and 
when once I get you safe on board. I’ll make you know the 
difference between a midshipman and a first lieutenant.’ 

‘I can only admit of equality, sir,’ replied Jack; ‘we are 
all born equal, I trust you’ll allow that.’ 

‘Equality— damn it, I suppose you’ll take the command of 
the ship. However, sir, your ignorance will be a little en- 
lightened by and by. I shall now go and report your con- 
duct to Captain Wilson; and I tell you plainly, that, if you 
are not on board this evening, tomorrow morning, at day- 
light, I shall send a sergeant and a file of marines to fetch 
you.’ 

‘You may depend upon it, sir,’ replied Jack, ‘that I also 
shall not fail to mention to Captain Wilson, that I consider 
you a very quarrelsome, impertinent fellow, and recommend 
him not to allow you to remain on board. It will be quite 
uncomfortable to be in the same ship with such an un- 
gentlemanly bear.’ 


45 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘He must be mad— quite mad/ exclaimed Sawbridge, whose 
astonishment even mastered his indignation. ‘Mad as a 
March hare — by God.’ 

‘No, sir,’ replied Jack, ‘I am not mad, but I am a 
philosopher.’ 

‘A whatf exclaimed Sawbridge, ‘damme, what next?— 
well, my joker, all the better for you, I shall put your 
philosophy to the proof.’ 

‘It is for that very reason, sir,’ replied Jack, ‘that I have 
decided upon going to sea ; and if you do remain on board, 
I hope to argue the point with you, and make you a convert 
to the truth of equality and the rights of man.’ 

‘By the Lord that made us both. I’ll soon make you a 
convert to the thirty-six articles of war— that is, if you remain 
on board ; but I shall now go to the captain, and report your 
conduct, sir, and leave you to your dinner with what appetite 
you may.’ 

‘Sir, I am infinitely obliged to you; but you need not be 
afraid of my appetite; I am only sorry, as you happen to 
belong to the same ship, that I cannot, in justice to the 
gentlemanly young men whom I expect, ask you to join them. 
I wish you a very good morning, sir.’ 

‘Twenty years have I been in the service,’ roared Saw- 
bridge, ‘and, damme,— but he’s mad— downright, stark, star- 
ing mad.’ And the first lieutenant bounced out of the room. 

Jack was a little astonished himself. Had Mr. Sawbridge 
made his appearance in uniform it might have been different, 
but that a plain-looking man, with black whiskers, shaggy 
hair, and old blue frock-coat, and yellow casimere waistcoat, 
should venture to address him in such a manner, was quite 
incomprehensible ; — He calls me mad, thought Jack, I shall tell 
Captain Wilson what is my opinion about his lieutenant. 
Shortly afterwards the company arrived, and Jack soon forgot 
all about it. ^ 

In the meantime Sawbridge called at the captain’s lodgings, 
and found him at home ; he made a very faithful report of all 
that had happened, and concluded his request by demanding, 
in great wrath, either an instant dismissal or a court-martial 
on our hero. Jack. 

‘Stop, Sawbridge,’ replied Captain Wilson, ‘take a chair: 

46 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


as Mr. Easy says, we must argue the point, and then I will 
leave it to your better feelings. As for the court-martial, it 
will not hold good, for Mr. Easy, in the first place, has not yet 
joined the ship, and in the next place, could not be supposed to 
know that you were the first lieutenant, or even an officer, for 
you went to him out of uniform.’ 

‘Very true, sir,’ replied Sawbridge; ‘I had forgotten that.’ 

‘Then, as for his dismissal, or rather, not allowing him to 
join, Mr. Easy has been brought up in the country, and has 
never seen anything aquatic larger than a fish-pond, perhaps, 
in his life ; and as for the service, or the nature of it, I believe 
he is as ignorant of it as a child not a year old— I doubt 
whether he knows the rank of a lieutenant ; certainly, he can 
have no idea of the power of a first lieutenant, by his treat- 
ment of you.’ 

‘I should think not, replied Sawbridge, drily. 

‘I do not think, therefore, that conduct which must have 
proceeded from sheer ignorance should be so severely pun- 
ished — I appeal to you, Sawbridge.’ 

‘Well, sir, perhaps you are right — but still he told me he 
was a philosopher, and talked about equality and rights of 
man. Told me that he could only admit of equality between 
us, and begged to argue the point. Now, sir, if a midshipman 
is to argue the point every time that an order is given, the 
service will come to a pretty pass.’ 

‘That is all very true, Sawbridge ; ana now you remind me 
of what never occurred to me at the time that I promised to 
take Mr. Easy in the ship. I now recollect that his father, 
who is a distant relation of mine, has some very wild notions 
in his head, just like what have been repeated by his son on 
your interview with him. I have occasionally dined there, 
and Mr. Easy has always been upholding the principles of 
natural equality and of the rights of man, much to the 
amusement of his guests, and I confess, at the time, to mine 
also. I recollect telling him that I trusted he would never 
be able to disseminate his opinions in the service to which I 
belonged, as we should have an end of all discipline. I little 
thought, at the time, that his only son, who has no more 
occasion to go to sea than the Archbishop of Canterbury, for 
his father has a very handsome property— I believe seven or 

47 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


eight thousand a year — would ever have sailed with me, and 
have brought these opinions with him into any ship that I 
commanded. It is a pity, a great pity— ^ 

^ ‘He never could have brought his pigs to a worse market,' 
observed Sawbridge. 

r ‘I agree with you, and, as, a father myself, I cannot but help 
feeling how careful we should be how we inculcate anything 
like abstract and philosophical ideas to youth. Allowing them 
to be in themselves correct, still they are dangerous as sharp 
instruments are in the hands of a child ; allowing them to be 
erroneous, they are seized upon with an avidity by young and 
ardent minds, and. are not to be eradicated without the greatest 
difficulty, and very often, not until they have accomplished 
their ruin.' 

‘Then you think, sir, that these ideas have taken deep root 
in this young man, and we shall not easily rid him of them.' 

‘I do not say so; but still, recollect they have been instilled, 
perhaps, from the earliest period, by one from whom they 
must have been received with all confidence — from a father to 
a son, and that son has never yet been sufficiently in the world 
to have proved their fallacy.' 

‘Well, sir,' replied Sawbridge, ‘if I may venture to offer 
an opinion on the subject, and in so doing I assure you that I 
only shall from a feding for the service, — if, as you say, these 
opinions will not easily be eradicated, as the young man is 
independent, would it not be both better for himself, as well 
as for the service, that he is sent home again ? As an officer 
he will never do any good for himself, and he may do much 
harm to others. I submit this to you. Captain Wilson, with 
all respect; but as your first lieutenant, I feel very jealous at 
any chance of the discipline of the ship being interfered with 
by the introduction of this young man, to- whom it appears 
that a profession is no object.' 

‘My dear Sawbridge,' replied Captain Wilson, after taking 
one or two turns up and down the room, ‘we entered the 
service together, we were messmates for many years, and you 
must be aware that it is not only long friendship but an 
intimate knowledge of your unrewarded merit which has 
induced me to request you to come with me as my first lieu- 
tenant: Now I will put a case to you, and you shall then 

48 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

decide the question— and moreover, I will abide by your de- 
cision. 

‘Suppose that you were a, commander like myself, with a 
wife and seven children, and that, struggling for many years 
to support them, you found yourself, notwithstanding the 
utmost parsimony, gradually running into debt. That, after 
many long applications, you had at last succeeded in obtaining 
employment by an appointment to a fine sloop, and there was 
every prospect, by prize-money and increased pay, of re- 
covering yourself from your difficulties, if not realising a 
sufficient provision for your family — then suppose that all 
this prospect and all these hopes were likely to be dashed to 
the ground by the fact of having no means of fitting your- 
self out, no credit, no means of paying debts you have con- 
tracted, for which you would have been arrested, or anything 
sufficient to leave for the support of your family during your 
absence, your agent only consenting to advance one half of 
what you require. Now suppose, in this awkward dilemma, 
without any one in this world upon whom you have any 
legitimate claim, as a last resource you were to apply to one 
with whom you have but a distant connection, and but an 
occasional acquaintance— and that when you had made your 
request for the loan of two or three hundred pounds, fully 
anticipating a refusal (from the feeling that he who goes 
a borrowing goes a sorrowing),— I say, suppose, to your 
astonishment, that this generous person was to present jou 
with* a cheque on his banker for one thousand pounds, de- 
manding no interest, no legal security, and requests you only 
to pay it at your convenience, — I ask you, Sawbridge, what 
would be your feelings towards such a- man?’ 

‘I .would die for him,’ replied Sawbridge, with emotion. 

‘And suppose, that, by the merest chance, or from a whim 
of the moment, the son of that man was to be placed under 
your protection?’ 

‘I would be a father to him,’ replied Sawbridge. 

‘But we must proceed a little further: suppose that you 
were to find the lad was not all that you could wish,— that he 
had imbibed erroneous doctrines which would probably, if 
not eradicated, be attended with consequences fatal to his 
welfare and happiness, would you therefore, on that account,. 

49 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


withdraw your protection, and leave him to the mercy of 
others who had no claims of gratitude to sway them in his 
favour ?’ 

‘Most certainly not, sir,' replied Sawbridge; ‘on the con- 
trary, I would never part with the son until, by precept or 
otherwise, I had set him right again, and thus had, as far 
as it was possible, paid the debt of gratitude due to the 
generous father.' 

‘I hardly need say to you, Sawbridge, after what has 
passed, that this lad you have just come from is the son, and 
that Mr. Easy of Forest Hill is the father.' 

‘Then, sir, I can only say that not only to please you, but 
also from respect to a man who has shown such good-will 
towards one of our cloth, I shall most cheerfully forgive all 
that has passed between the lad and me, and all that may 
probably take place before we make him what he ought to be.' 

‘Thank you, Sawbridge, I expected as much, and am not 
disappointed in my opinion of you.' 

‘And now, Captain Wilson, pray what is to be done?' 

‘We must get him on board, but not with a file of marines, 
that will do more harm than good. I will send a note request- 
ing him to breakfast with me to-morrow morning, and have a 
little conversation with him. I do not wish to frighten him ; 
he would not scruple to run back to Forest Hill — ^now I wish 
to keep him, if I possibly can.' 

‘You are right, sir ; his father appears his greatest enemy. 
What a pity that a man with so good a heart should be so 
weak in the head ! Then, sir, I shall take no notice of this at 
present, but leave the whole affair in your hands.' 

‘Do, Sawbridge ; you have obliged me very much by your 
kindness in this business.' 

Mr. Sawbridge then took his leave, and Captain Wilson 
despatched a note to our hero, requesting the pleasure of his 
company to breakfast at nine o'clock the ensuing morning. 
The answer was in the affirmative, but verbal, for Jack had 
drunk too much champagne to trust his pen to paper. 


50 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER IX 

IN WHICH MR. EASY FINDS HIMSELF ON THE OTHER SIDE 
OF THE BAY OF BISCAY 

T he next morning Jack Easy would have forgotten all 
about his engagement with the captain, had it not been 
for the waiter, who thought that after the reception which 
our hero had given the first lieutenant, it would be just as 
well that he should not be disrespectful to the captain. Now 
Jack had not, hitherto, put on his uniform, and he thought 
this a fitting occasion, particularly as the waiter suggested 
the propriety of his appearance in it. Whether it was from 
a presentiment of what he was to suffer. Jack was not at all 
pleased, as most lads are, with the change in his dress. It 
appeared to him that he was sacrificing his independence; 
however, he did not follow his first impulse, which was, to 
take it off again, but took his hat, which the waiter had 
brushed and handed to him, and then set off for the captain^s 
lodgings. Captain Wilson received him as if he had not been 
aware of his delay in joining his ship, or his interview with 
his first lieutenant, but before breakfast was over. Jack him- 
self narrated the affair in few words. Captain Wilson then 
entered into a detail of the duties and rank of every person 
on board of the ship, pointing out to Jack, that where 
discipline was required, it was impossible, when duty was 
carried on, that more than one could command ; and that that 
one was the captain, who represented the king in person, who 
represented the country; and that, as the orders were trans- 
mitted from the captain through the lieutenant, and from the 
lieutenant to the midshipmen, who, in their turn, communi- 
cated them to the whole ship’s company, in fact, it was the 
captain alone who gave the orders, and that every one was 
equally obliged to obey. Indeed, as the captain himself had 
to obey the orders of his superiors, the admiral and the 
admiralty, all on board might be said to be equally obliged to 
obey. Captain Wilson laid a strong emphasis on the word 
equally, as he cautiously administered his first dose ; indeed, 
in the whole of his address, he made use of special pleading, 

51 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


which would nave done credit to the Bar ; for at the same 
time that he was explaining to Jack that he was entering a 
service in which equality could never for a moment exist, if 
the service was to exist, he contrived to show that all the 
grades were levelled, by all being equally bound to do their 
duty to their country, and that, in fact, whether a seaman 
obeyed his orders, or he obeyed the orders of his superior 
officer, they were in reality only obeying the orders of the 
country, which were administered through their channels. 

Jack did not altogether dislike this view of the subject, and 
the captain took care not to dwell too long upon it. He then 
entered upon other details which he was aware would be more 
agreeable to Jack. He pointed out that the articles of war 
were the rules by which the service was to be guided, and that 
everybody, from the captain to the least boy in the ship, was 
equally bound to adhere to them— that a certain allowance of 
provisions and wine was allowed to each person on board, 
and that this allowance was the same to all : the same to the 
captain as to the boy; the same in quantity as in quality; 
every one equally entitled to his allowance; — that, although 
there were, of necessity, various grades necessary in the 
service, and the captain’s orders were obliged to be passed and 
obeyed by all, yet still, whatever was the grade of the officer, 
they were equally considered as gentlemen. In short. Captain 
Wilson, who told the truth, and nothing but the truth, with- 
out telling* the whole, truth, actually made Jack fancy that he 
had at last found out that equality he had been seeking for 
in vain pn sho*re, when, at last, he recollected the language 
used by Mr. Sawbridge the evening before, and asked the 
captain why that personage had so conducted himself. Now, 
as the language of Mr. Sawbridge was very much at variance 
with equality. Captain Wilson was not a little puzzled. How- 
ever, he first pointed out that the first lieutenant was, at the 
time being, the captain, as he was the senior officer on board, 
as would Jack himself be if he were the' senior officer on board ; 
and that, as he before observed, the captain or senior officer 
represented the country. That in the articles of war, every- 
body who absented himself from the ship committed an error, 
or breach of these articles ; and if any error or breach of those 

52 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


articles was committed by any one belonging to the ship, if 
the senior officer did not take notice of it, he then himself 
committed a breach of those articles, and was liable himself 
to be punished, if he could not prove that he had noticed it; 
it was therefore to save himself that he was obliged to point 
out the error; and if he did it in strong language, it only 
proved his zeal for his country. 

‘Upon my honour, then,’ replied Jack, ‘there can be no 
doubt of his zeal ; for if the whole country had been at stake, 
he could not have put himself in a greater passion.’ 

‘Then he did his duty; but depend upon it, it was not a 
pleasant one to him : and I ’ll answer for it, when you meet 
him on board, he will be as friendly with you as if nothing had 
happened.’ 

‘He told me that he ’d soon make me know what a first 
lieutenant was: what did he mean by that?’ inquired Jack. 

‘All zeal.’ 

‘Yes, but he said that as soon as he got me on board, he ’d 
show me the difference between a first lieutenant and a 
midshipman.’ 

‘All zeal.’ 

. ‘He said my ignorance should be a little enlightened by 
and by.’ , 

‘All zeal.’ 

‘And that he ’d send a sergeant and marines to fetch me.’ 

‘All zeal.’ 

‘That he would put my philosophy to the proof.’ 

‘All zeal, Mr. Easy. Zeal will break out in this way; but 
we should do nothing in the service without it. Recollect 
that I hope and trust one day to see you also a zealous officer.’ 

Here Jack cogitated considerably, and gave no answer. 

‘You will, I am sure,’ continued Captain Wilson, ‘find Mr. 
Sawbridge one of your best friends.’ 

‘Perhaps so,’ replied Jack ; ‘but I did not much admire our 
first acquaintance.’ 

‘It will perhaps be your unpleasant duty to find as much 
fault yourself ; we are all equally bound to do our duty to our 
country. But, Mr. Easy, I sent for you to say that we shall 
sail to-morrow ; and, as I shall send my things off this after- 

53 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


noon by the launch, you had better send yours off also. At 
eight o’clock I shall go on board, and we can both go in the 
same boat.’ 

To this Jack made no sort of objection, and having paid his 
bill at the Fountain, he sent his chest down to the boat by 
some of the crew who came up for it, and attended the 
summons of the captain to embark. By nine o’clock that 
evening, Mr. Jack Easy was safe on board his Majesty’s 
sloop Harpy, 

When Jack arrived on board, it was dark, and he did not 
know what to do with himself. The captain was received by 
the officers on deck, who took off their hats to salute him. 
The captain returned the salute, and so did Jack very 
politely, after which the captain entered into conversation 
with the first lieutenant, and for a while Jack was left to 
himself. It was too dark to distinguish faces, and to one 
who had never been on board of a ship, too dark to move, so 
Jack stood where he was, which was not far from the main 
bitts, but he did not stay long; the boat had been hooked on 
to the quarter davits, and the boatswain had called out — 

'Set taut, my lads 1’ 

And then with the shrill whistle, and 'Away with her!’ 
forward came galloping and bounding along the men with 
the tackles; and in the dark Jack was upset, and half a dozen 
marines fell upon him; the men, who had no idea that an 
officer was floored among the others, were pleased at the 
joke, and continued to dance over those who were down, 
until they rolled themselves out of the way. Jack, who did not 
understand this, fared badly, and it was not until the calls 
piped belay, that he could recover his legs, after having been 
trampled upon by half the starboard watch, and the breath 
completely jammed out of his body. Jack reeled to a carron- 
ade slide, when the officers, who had been laughing at the 
lark as well as the men, perceived his situation — among 
others, Mr. Sawbridge, the first lieutenant. 

'Are you hurt, Mr. Easy?’ said he kindly. 

'A little,’ replied Jack, catching his breath. 

'You ’ve had but a rough welcome,’ replied the first lieu- 
tenant, ‘but at certain times on board ship, it is every man for 
himself and God for us all. Harpur,’ continued the first 

54 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


lieutenant to the doctor, ^take Mr. Easy down in the gun-room 
with you, and I will be down myself as soon as I can. Where 
is Mr. JolliffeP 

'Here, sir,' replied Mr. Jolliffe, a master’s mate, coming aft 
from the booms. 

‘There is a youngster come on board with the captain. 
Order one of the quartermasters to get a hammock slung.’ 

In the meantime Jack went down into the gun-room, where 
a glass of wine somewhat recovered him. He did not stay 
there long, nor did he venture to talk much. As soon as his 
hammock was ready. Jack was glad to go to bed— and as he 
was much bruised he was not disturbed the next morning till 
past nine o’clock. He then dressed himself, went on deck, 
found that the sloop was just clear of the Needles, that he 
felt very queer, then very sick, and was conducted by a 
marine down below, put into his hammock, where he remained 
during a gale of wind of three days, bewildered, confused, 
puzzled, and every minute knocking his head against the 
beams with the pitching and tossing of the sloop. 

And this is going to sea, thought Jack ; no wonder that no 
one interferes with another here, or talks about a trespass; 
for I ’m sure any one is welcome to my share of the ocean ; 
and if I once get on shore again, the devil may have my 
portion if he chooses. 

Captain Wilson and Mr. Sawbridge had both allowed 
Jack more leisure than most midshipmen, during his illness. 
By the time that the gale was over, the sloop was off Cape 
Finisterre. The next morning the sea was nearly down, and 
there was but a slight breeze on the waters. The comparative 
quiet of the night before had very much recovered our hero, 
and when the hammocks were piped up, he was accosted by 
Mr. Jolliffe, the master’s mate, who asked, whether he in- 
tended to rouse and bit, or whether he intended to sail to 
Gibraltar between his blankets.’ 

Jack, who felt himself quite another person, turned out of 
his hammock and dressed himself. A marine had, by the 
captain’s orders, attended Jack during his illness, and this 
man came to his assistance, opened his chest, and brought 
him all which he required, or Jack would have been in a sad 
dilemma. 


55 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Jack then inquired where he was to go, for he had not yet 
been in the midshipmen’s berth, although five days on board. 
The marine pointed it out to him, and Jack, who felt ex- 
cessively hungry, crawled over and between chests, until he 
found himself fairly in a hole infinitely inferior to the dog- 
kennels which received his father’s pointers. 

T ’d not only give up the ocean,’ thought Jack, 'and my 
share of it, but also my share of the Harpy, unto any one 
who fancies it. Equality enough here ! for every one appears 
equally miserably off.’ 

As he thus gave vent to his thoughts, he perceived that 
there was another person in the berth — Mr. Jolliffe, the 
master’s mate, who had fixed his eye upon Jack, and to whom 
Jack returned the compliment. The first thing that Jack 
observed was that Mr. Jolliffe was very deeply pockmarked, 
and that he had but one eye, and that was a piercer; it 
appeared like a little ball of fire, and as if it reflected more 
light from the solitary candle than the candle gave. 

T don’t like your looks,’ thought Jack; 'we shall never 
be friends.’ 

But here Jack fell into the common error of judging by 
appearances, as will be proved hereafter. 

'I ’m glad to see you up again, youngster,’ said Jolliffe ; 
'you ’ve been on your beam ends longer than usual, but those 
who are strongest suffer most — you made your mind up but 
late to come to sea. However, they say, "Better late than 
never.” ’ 

'I feel very much inclined to argue the truth of that saying,’ 
replied Jack ; 'but it ’s no use just now. I ’m terribly hungry 
—when shall I get some breakfast?’ 

'To-morrow morning at half-past eight,’ replied Mr. Jolliffe. 
'Breakfast for to-day has been over these two hours.’ 

'But must I then go without?’ 

'No, I do not say that, as we must make allowances for 
your illness ; but it will not be breakfast.’ 

'Call it what you please,’ replied Jack, 'only pray desire 
the servants to give me something to eat. Dry toast or 
muffins— anything will do, but I should prefer coffee.’ 

'You forget that you are off Finisterre, in a midshipman’s 
berth : coffee we have none — muffins we never see, — dry toast 
cannot be made, as we have no soft bread; but a cup of tea, 

S6 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


and ship’s biscuit and butter, I can desire the steward to get 
ready for you.’ 

'Well then,’ replied Jack, 'I will thank you to procure 
me that.’ 

'Marine,’ cried Jolliffe, 'call Mesty.’ 

'Pass the word for Mesty,’ cried the marine— and the two 
syllables were handed forward until lost in the fore part of 
the vessel. 

The person so named must be introduced to the reader. 
He was a curious anomaly— a black man who had been 
brought to America as a slave, and there sold. 

He was a very tall, spare built, yet muscular form, and had 
a face by no means common with his race. His head was 
long and narrow, high cheek-bones from whence his face 
descended down to almost a point at the chin; his nose was 
very small, but it was straight and almost Roman; his mouth 
also was unusually small; and his lips thin for an African; 
his teeth very white, and filed to sharp points. He claimed 
th^ rank of prince in his own country, with what truth could 
not of course be substantiated. His master had settled at 
New York, and there Mesty had learned English, if it could 
be so called: the fact is, that all the emigrant labourers at 
New York being Irishmen, he had learned English with the 
strong brogue and peculiar phraseology of the sister kingdom 
dashed with a little Yankeeism. 

Having been told that there was no slavery in England, 
Mesty had concealed himself on board an English merchant 
vessel and escaped. On his arrival in England he had entered 
on board of a man-of-war. Having no name, it was necessary 
to christen him on the ship’s books, and the first lieutenant, 
who had entered him, struck with his remarkable expression 
of countenance, and being a German scholar, had named him 
Mephistopheles Faust, from whence his Christian name had 
been razeed to Mesty. Mesty in other points was an eccentric 
character; at one moment, when he remembered his lineage, 
he was proud to excess, at others he was grave and almost 
sullen— but when nothing either in daily occurrences or in his 
mind ran contrary, he exhibited the drollery so often found in 
his nation, with a spice of Irish humour, as if he had caught 
up the latter with his Irish brogue. 

Mesty was soon seen coming aft, bent almost double as he 

57 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


crouched under the beams, and taking large strides with his 
naked feet. 

‘By the powers, Massa Yolliffe, but it is not seasonable at 
all to send for me just now, anyhow, seeing how the praters 
are in the copper and so many blackguard ’palpeens all ready 
to change net for net, and better themselves by the same 
mistake, “dam um.” ’ 

‘Mesty, you know I never send for you myself or allow 
others to do so, unless it is necessary,^ replied Jolliffe ‘but 
this poor lad has eat^n nothing since he has been on board 
and is very hungry — you must get him a little tea.’ 

‘Is it tay you mane, sir?— I guess, to make tay, in the 
first place I must ab water, and in the next must ab room in 
the galley to put the kettle on— and ’pose you wanted to burn 
the tip of your little finger just now, it ’s not in the galley that 
you find a berth for it — and den the water before seven bells. 
I ’ve a notion it ’s just impassible.’ 

‘But he must have something, Mesty.’ 

‘Never mind the tea then,’ replied Jack, ‘I ’ll take some milk.’ 

‘Is it milk massa manes, and the bumboat woman on the 
Oder side of the bay?’ 

‘We have no milk, Mr. Easy; you forget that we are on 
blue water,’ replied Jolliffe, ‘and I really am afraid that you ’ll 
have to wait till dinner-time. Mesty tells the truth.’ 

‘I tell you what, Massa Yolliffe, it just seven bells, and if 
the young gentleman would, instead of tay, try a little out of 
the copper, it might keep him asy. It but a little difference, 
tay soup and pay soup. Now a bowl of that, with some nuts 
and a flourish of pepper, will do him good, anyhow.’ 

‘Perhaps the best thing he can take, Mesty ; get it as fast 
as you can.’ 

In a few minutes the black brought down a bowl of soup 
and whole peas swimming in it, put before our hero a tin 
bread-basket full of small biscuit, called midshipmen’s nuts, 
and the pepper-castor. Jack’s visions of tea, coffee, muffins, 
dry toast and milk vanished as he perceived the mess ; but 
he was very hungry, and he found it much better than he 
expected; and he moreover found himself much the better 
after he had swallowed it. It struck seven bells, and he ac- 
companied Mr. Jolliffe on deck. 

58 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER X 


SHOWING HOW JACK TRANSGRESSES AGAINST HIS OWN 


PHILOSOPHY 



HEN Jack Easy had gained the deck, he found the sun 


V V shining gaily, a soft air blowing from the shore, and 
the whole of the rigging and every ‘part of the ship loaded 
with the shirts, trousers, and jackets of the seamen, which 
had been wetted during the heavy gale, and were now hanging 
up to dry ; all the wet sails were also spread on the booms or 
triced up in the rigging, and the ship was slowly forging 
through the blue water. The captain and the first lieutenant 
were standing on the gangway in converse, and the majority 
of the officers were with their quadrants and sextants 
ascertaining the latitude at noon. The decks were white and 
clean, the sweepers had just laid by their brooms, and the 
men were busy coiling down the ropes. It was a scene of 
cheerfulness, activity, and order, which lightened his heart 
after the four days of suffering, close air, and confinement, 
from which he had just emerged. 

The captain, who perceived him, beckoned to him, asked 
him kindly how he felt; the first lieutenant also smiled upon 
him, and many of the officers, as well as his messmates, 
congratulated him upon his recovery. 

The captain's steward came up to him, touched his hat, and 
requested the pleasure of his company to dinner in the cabin. 
Jack was the essence of politeness, took off his hat, and 
accepted the invitation. Jack was standing on a rope which 
a seaman was coiling down; the man touched his hat and 
requested he would be so kind as to take his foot off. Jack 
took his hat off his head in return, and his foot off the rope. 
The master touched his hat, and reported twelve o’clock to 
the first lieutenant,— the first lieutenant touched his hat, and 
reported twelve o’clock to the captain,— the captain touched 
his hat, and told the first lieutenant to make it so. The officer 
of the watch touched his hat, and asked the captain whether 
they should pipe to dinner, — the captain touched his hat and 
said, Tf you please.’ 


59 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


The midshipman received his orders, and touched his hat, 
which he gave to the head boatswain’s mate, who touched his 
hat and then the calls whistled cheerily. 

Well, thought Jack, politeness seems to be the order of the 
day, and every one has an equal respect for the other. Jack 
stayed on deck ; he peeped through the ports which were open, 
and looked down into the deep blue wave ; he cast his eyes up 
aloft, and watched the tall spars sweeping and tracing with 
their points, as it were, a small portion of the clear sky, as 
they acted in obedience to the motion of the vessel ; he looked 
forward at the range of carronades which lined the sides of 
the deck, and then he proceeded to climb one of the carron- 
ades, and lean over the hammocks to gaze on the distant land. 

'Young gentleman, get off those hammocks,’ cried the 
master, who was officer of the watch, in a surly tone. 

Jack looked round. 

‘Do you hear me, sir ? I’m speaking to you,’ cried the 
master again. 

Jack felt very indignant, and he thought that politeness 
was not quite so general as he supposed. 

It happened that Captain Wilson was upon deck. 

‘Come here, Mr. Easy,’ said the captain ; ‘it is a rule in the 
service, that no one gets on the hammocks, unless in case 
of emergency — I never do — nor the first lieutenant — nor any 
of the officers or men, — therefore, uoon the principle of 
equality, you must not do it either.’ 

‘Certainly not, sir,’ replied Jack, ‘but still I do not see why 
that officer in the shining hat should be so angry, and not 
sj>eak to me as if I were a gentleman, as well as himself. 

‘I have already explained that to you, Mr. Easy.’ 

‘Oh yes, I recollect now, it ’s zeal ; but this zeal appears to 
me to be the only unpleasant thing in the service. It ’s a pity, 
as you said, that the service cannot do without it.’ 

Captain Wilson laughed, and walked away, and shortly 
afterwards, as he turned up and down the deck with the 
master, he hinted to him that he should not speak so sharply 
to a lad who had committed such a trifling error, through 
ignorance. Now Mr. Smallsole, the master, who was a surly 
sort of a personage, and did not like even a hint of disappro- 
bation of his conduct, although very regardless of the feeling 

6o 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


of others, determined to pay this off on Jack, the very first 
convenient opportunity. Jack dined in the cabin, and was very 
much pleased to find that every one drank wine with him, 
and that everybody at the captain’s table appeared to be on an 
equality. Before the dessert had been on the table five 
minutes. Jack became loquacious on his favourite topic; all 
the company stared with surprise at such an unheard-of 
doctrine being broached on board of a man-of-war; the 
captain argued the point, so as to controvert, without too much 
offending, Jack’s notions, laughing the whole time that the 
conversation was carried on. 

It will be observed that this day may be considered as the 
first in which Jack really made his appearance on board, and 
it also was on this first day that Jack made known, at the 
captain’s table, his very peculiar notions. If the company 
at the captain’s table, which consisted of the second lieu- 
tenant, purser, Mr. Jolliffe, and one of the midshipmen, 
were astonished at such heterodox opinions being started in 
the presence of the captain, they were equally astonished at 
the cool, good-humoured ridicule with which they were re- 
ceived by Captain Wilson. The report of Jack’s boldness, 
and every word and opinion that he had uttered (of course 
much magnified), was circulated that evening through the 
whole ship; it was canvassed in the gun-room by the officers, 
it was descanted upon by the midshipmen as they walked the 
deck; the captain’s steward held a levee abreast of the ship’s 
funnel, in which he narrated this new doctrine. The sergeant 
of marines gave his opinion, in his berth, that it was damnable. 
The boatswain talked over the matter with the other warrant 
officers, till the grog was all gone, and then dismissed it as too 
dry a subject: and it was the general opinion of the ship’s 
company, that as soon as they arrived at Gibraltar Bay, our 
hero would bid adieu to the service, either by being sentenced 
to death by a court-martial, or by being dismissed, and towed 
on shore on a grating. Others who had more of the wisdom 
of the serpent, and who had been informed by Mr. Sawbridge 
that our hero was a lad who would inherit a large property, 
argued differently, and considered that Captain Wilson had 
very good reason for being so lenient— and among them was 
the second lieutenant. There were but four who were well 

6i 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


inclined towards Jack, — to wit, the captain, the first lieu- 
tenant, Mr. Jolliffe the one-eyed master’s mate, and 
Mephistopheles the black, who, having heard that Jack had 
uttered such sentiments, loved him with all his heart and soul. 

We have referred to the second lieutenant, Mr. Asper. 
This young man had a very high respect for birth, and par- 
ticularly for money, of which he had very little. He was the 
son of an eminent merchant who, during the time that he was 
a midshipman, had allowed him a much larger sum for his 
expenses than was necessary or proper ; and, during his 
career, he found that his full pocket procured him con- 
sequence, not only among his own messmates, but also with 
many of the officers of the ships that he sailed in. A man 
who is able and willing to pay a large tavern bill will always 
find followers — that is, to the tavern ; and lieutenants did not 
disdain, to dine, walk arm-in-arm, and be ‘hail fellow well 
met’ with a midshipman, at whose expense they lived during 
the time they were on shore. Mr. Asper had just received 
his commission and appointment when his father became a 
bankrupt, and the fountain was dried up from which he had 
drawn such liberal supplies. Since that, Mr. Asper had 
felt that his consequence was gone: he could no longer talk 
about the service being a bore, or that he should give it up; 
he could no longer obtain that deference paid to his purse, 
and not to himself ; and he had contracted very expensive 
habits, without having any longer the means of gratifying 
them. It was therefore no wonder that he imbibed a great 
respect for money ; and, as he could no longer find the means 
himself, he was glad to pick up anybody else at whose cost 
he could indulge in that extravagance and expense to which 
he had been so long accustomed, and still sighed for. Now, 
Mr. Asper knew that our hero was well supplied with money, 
as he had obtained from the waiter the amount of the bill 
paid at the Fountain, and he had been waiting for Jack’s 
appearance on deck to become his very dearest and most 
intimate friend. The conversation in the cabin made him 
feel assured that Jack would require and be grateful for 
support, and he had taken the opportunity of a walk with Mr. 
Sawbridge, to offer to take Jack in his watch. Whether it 
was that Mr. Sawbridge saw through the design of Mr. Asper, 

62 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


or whether he imagined that our hero would be better pleased 
with him than with the master, considering his harshness 
of deportment; or with himself, who could not, as first lieu- 
tenant, overlook any remission of duty, the offer was accepted, 
and Jack Easy was ordered, as he now entered upon his 
duties, to keep watch under Lieutenant Asper. 

But not only was this the first day that Jack may be said 
to have appeared in the service, but it was the first day in 
which he had entered the midshipman’s berth, and was made 
acquainted with his messmates. 

We have already mentioned Mr. Jolliffe, the master’s mate, 
but we must introduce him more particularly. Nature is 
sometimes extremely arbitrary, and never did she show herself 
more so than in insisting that Mr. Jolliffe should have the 
most sinister expression of countenance that ever had been 
looked upon. 

He had suffered martyrdom with the smallpox, which prob- 
ably had contracted his lineaments; his face was not only 
deeply pitted but scarred with this cruel disorder. One eye 
had been lost, and all eyebrows had disappeared— and the 
contrast between the dull, sightless opaque orb on one side of 
his face, and the brilliant, piercing, little ball on the other, 
was almost terrifying. His nose had been ’eaten away by the 
disease till it formed a sharp but irregular point ; part of the 
muscles of the chin were contracted, and it was drawn in with 
unnatural seams and puckers. He was tall, gaunt, and thin, 
seldom smiled, and when he did, the smile produced a still 
further distortion. 

Mr. Jolliffe was the son of a warrant officer. He did not 
contract this disease until he had been sent out to the West 
Indies, where it swept away hundreds. He had now been 
long in the service, with little or no chance of promotion. He 
had suffered from indigence, from reflections upon his humble 
birth, from sarcasms on his appearance. Every contumely 
had been heaped upon him at one time or another, in the ships 
in which he served; among a crowd he had found himself 
desolate— and now, although no one dared treat him to his 
face with disrespect, he was only respected in the service from 
a knowledge of his ability and exemplary performance of 
his duties— he had no friends or even companions. For many 

63 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


years he had retired within himself, he had improved by 
reading and study, had felt all the philanthropy of a Christian, 
and extended it towards others. Silent and reserved, he 
seldom spoke in the berth unless his authority, as caterer, was 
called for; all respected Mr. Jolliffe, but no one liked, as a 
companion, one at whose appearance the very dogs would 
bark. At the same time every one acknowledged his correct 
behaviour in every point, his sense of justice, his forbearance, 
his kindness, and his good sense. With him life was indeed a 
pilgrimage, and he wended his way in all Christian charity 
and all Christian zeal. 

In all societies, however small they may be, provided that 
they do but amount to half-a-dozen, you will invariably meet 
with a bully. And it is also generally the case that you will 
find one of that society who is more or less the butt. You 
will discover this even in occasional meetings, such as a dinner 
party, the major part of which have never met before. 

Previous to the removal of the cloth, the bully will have 
shown himself, by his dictatorial manner, and will also have 
selected the one upon whom he imagines that he can best 
practise. In a midshipman’s berth this fact has become 
almost proverbial, although now perhaps it is not attended 
with that disagreeable- despotism which was permitted at the 
time that our hero entered the service. 

The bully of the midshipman’s berth of H. M. sloop Harpy 
was a young man about seventeen, with light, curly hair, and 
florid countenance, the son of the clerk in the dockyard at 
Plymouth, and his name was Vigors. 

The butt was a pudding- faced Tartar-physiognomied boy 
of fifteen, whose intellects with fostering, if not great, might 
at least have been respectable, had he not lost all confidence in 
his own powers from the constant jeers and mockeries of those 
who had a greater fluency of speech without perhaps so much 
real power of mind. Although slow, what he learnt he invari- 
ably retained. This lad’s name was Gosset. His father was 
a wealthy yeoman of Lynn, in Norfolk. There were at the 
time but three other midshipmen in the ship, of whom it can 
only be said that they were like midshipmen in general, with 
little appetite for learning, but good appetites for dinner, 
hating everything like, work, fond of everything like fun, 

64 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


fighting a Voutrance one minute, and sworn friends the 
next— with general principles of honour and justice, but 
which was occasionally warped according to circumstances; 
with all the virtues and vices so heterogeneously jumbled and 
heaped together, that it was almost impossible to ascribe any 
action to its true motive, and to ascertain to what point their 
vice was softened down into almost a virtue, and their virtues 
from mere excess degenerated into vice. Their names were 
O’Connor, Mills, and Gascoigne. The other shipmates of 
our hero it will be better to introduce as they appear on the 
stage. 

After Jack had dined in the cabin, he followed his mess- 
mates Jolliffe and Gascoigne down into the midshipman’s 
berth. 

T say. Easy,’ observed Gascoigne, *you are a devilish free- 
and-easy sort of a fellow, to tell the captain that you con- 
sidered yourself as great a man as he was.’ 

T beg your pardon,’ replied Jack, T did not argue indi- 
vidually, but generally, upon the principles of the rights of 
man.’ 

Well,’ replied Gascoigne, ^it’s the first time I ever heard a 
middy do such a bold thing; take care your rights of man 
don’t get you in the wrong box— there ’s no arguing on board 
of a man-of-war. The captain took it amazingly easy, but 
you ’d better not broach that subject too often.’ 

^Gascoigne gives you very good advice, Mr. Easy,’ observed 
Jolliffe; 'allowing that your ideas are correct, which it appears 
to me they are not, or at least impossible to be acted upon, 
there is such a thing as prudence, and however much this 
question may be canvassed on shore, in his Majesty’s service 
it is not only dangerous in itself, but will be very prejudicial 
to you.’ 

'Man is a free agent,’ replied Easy. 

'I ’ll be shot if a midshipman is,’ replied Gascoigne, laugh- 
ing, 'and that you ’ll soon find.’ 

'And yet it was with the expectation of finding that equal- 
ity that I was induced to come to sea.’ 

'On the first of April, I presume,’ replied Gascoigne. 
‘But are you really serious?’ 

Hereupon Jack entered into a long argument, to which 

65 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Jodliffe and Gascoigne listened without interruption, and 
Mesty with admiration—at the end of it Gascoigne laughed 
heartily, and Jolliffe sighed. 

‘From whence did you learn all this?’ inquired Jolliffe. 

‘From my father, who is a great philosopher, and has 
constantly upheld these opinions.’ 

‘And did your father wish you to go to sea?’ 

‘No, he was opposed to it,’ replied Jack, ‘but of course he 
could not combat my rights and free will.’ 

‘Mr. Easy, as a friend,’ replied Jolliffe, ‘I request that you 
would as much as possible keep your opinions to yourself. I 
shall have an opportunity of talking to you on the subject, and 
will then explain to you my reasons.’ 

As soon as Mr. Jolliffe had ceased, down came Mr. Vigors 
and O’Connor, who had heard the news of Jack’s heresy. 

‘You do not know Mr. Vigors and Mr. O’Connor,’ said 
Jolliffe to Easy. 

Jack, who was the essence of politeness, rose and bowed, 
at which the others took their seats, without returning the 
salutation. Vigors had, from what he had heard and now 
seen of Easy, thought that he had somebody else to play 
upon, and without ceremony he commenced. 

‘So, my chap, you are come on board to raise a mutiny 
here with your equality — you came off scot free at the 
captain’s table; but it won’t do, I can tell you, even in the 
midshipman’s berth : some must knock under, and you are one 
of them.’ 

‘If, sir,’ replied Easy, ‘you mean by knock under, that I 
must submit, I can assure you that you are mistaken. Upon 
the same principle that I would never play the tyrant to those 
weaker than myself, so will I resent oppression if attempted.’ 

‘Damme, but he ’s a regular sea lawyer already : however, 
my boy, we ’ll soon put your metal to the proof.’ 

/ ‘Am I then to infer that I am not on an equality with my 
messmates?’ replied Jack, looking at Jolliffe. The latter was 
about to answer him, but Vigors interrupted.! 
lu, ‘Yes, you are on an equality as far as this, that you have an 
equal right to the berth, if you are not knocked out of it for 
insolence to your masters; that you have an equal share to 
pay for the things purchased for the mess, and an equal right 

66 - 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

to have your share, provided you can get it; you have an 
equal right to talk, provided you are not told to hold your 
tongue. The fact is, you have an equal right with every one 
else to do as you can, get what you can, and say what you can, 
always provided that you can do it ; for here the weakest goes 
to the wall, and that is midshipman's berth equality. Now, 
do you understand all that; or will you wait for a practical 
illustration ?' 

T am then to infer that the equality here is as much 
destroyed as it even will be among savages, where the strong 
oppress the weak, and the only law is club law— in fact, much 
the same as it is at a public or large school on shore ?’ 

T suspect you are right for once. You were at a public 
school: how did they treat you there?' 

‘As you propose treating people here, “the weakest went to 
the wall. " ' 

‘Well, then, a nod 's as good as a wink to a blind horse : 
that 's all, my hearty,' said Vigors. 

But the hands being turned up, ‘Shorten sail' put an end 
to the altercation for the present. 

As our hero had not yet received orders to go to his duty, 
he remained below -with Mesty. 

‘By de powers, Massa Easy, but I lub you with my whole 
soul,' said Mesty. ‘By Jasus, you really tark fine, Massa Easy ; 
dat Mr. Vigor— nebber care for him, would n't you like him— 
and sure you would,' continued the black, feeling the muscle of 
Jack's arm. ‘By the soul of my fader, I 'd bet my week's 
allowance on you anyhow. Nebber be 'fraid, Massa Easy.' 

‘I am not afraid,' replied Jack ; ‘I 've thrashed bigger 
fellows than he' ; and Jack's assertion was true. Mr. Bonny- 
castle never interfered in a fair fight, and took no notice of 
black eyes, provided the lessons were well said. Jack had 
fought and fought again, until he was a very good bruiser, 
and although not so tall as Vigors, he was much better built 
for fighting. A knowing Westminster boy would have bet 
his half-crown upon Jack, had he seen him and his anticipated 
adversary. 

The constant battles which Jack was obliged to fight at 
school had been brought forward by Jack against his father's 
arguments in favour of equality, but they had been overruled 

67 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

by Mr. Easy s pointing out that the combats of hoys had 
nothing to do with the rights of man. 

As soon as the watch was called, Vigors, O’Connor, Gosset, 
and Gascoigne came down into the berth. Vigors, who was 
the strongest in the berth, except Jolliffe, had successively had 
his superiority acknowledged, and, when on deck, he had 
talked of Easy’s impertinence, and his intention of bringing 
him to his senses. The others, therefore, came down to see 
the fun. 

‘Well, Mr. Easy,’ observed Vigors, as he came into the 
berth, ‘you take after your uame at all events ; I suppose you 
intend to eat the king’s provision, and do nothing.’ 

Jack’s mettle was already up. 

‘You will oblige me, sir, by minding your own business,’ 
replied Jack. 

‘You impudent blackguard, if you say another word, I ’ll 
give you a good thrashing, and knock some of your equality 
out of you.’ 

‘Indeed,’ replied Jack, who almost fancied himself back at 
Mr. Bonnycastle’s ; ‘we ’ll try that.’ 

Whereupon Jack very coolly divested himself of his upper 
garments, neckerchief, and shirt, much to the surprise of Mr. 
Vigors, who little contemplated such a proof of decision and 
confidence, and still more to the delight of the other midship- 
men, who would have forfeited a week’s allowance to see 
Vigors well thrashed. Vigors, however, knew that he had 
gone too far to retreat : he therefore prepared for action ; and, 
when ready, the whole party went out into the steerage to 
settle the business. 

Vigors had gained his assumed authority more by bully- 
ing than fighting; others had submitted to him without a 
sufficient trial; Jack, on the contrary, had won his way up 
in school by hard and scientific combat : the result, therefore, 
may easily be imagined. In less than a quarter of an hour 
Vigors, beaten dead, with his eyes closed, and three teeth out, 
gave in ; while Jack, after a basin of water, looked as fresh as 
ever, with the exception of a few trifling scratches. 

The news of this victory was soon through the ship; and 
before Jack had resumed his clothes, it had been told con- 
fidentially by Sawbridge to the captain. 

68 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘So soon!’ said Captain Wilson, laughing; ‘I expected 
that a midshipman’s berth would do wonders; but I did not 
expect this, yet awhile. This victory is the first severe blow 
to Mr. Easy’s equality, and will be more valuable than twenty 
defeats. Let him now go to his duty : he will soon find his 
level.’ 


CHAPTER XI 

IN WHICH OUR HERO PROVES THAT ALL ON BOARD SHOULD 
EQUALLY SACRIFICE DECENCY TO DUTY. 

T he success of any young man in a profession very 
much depends upon the occurrences at the commence- 
ment of his career, as from those is his character judged, 
and he is treated accordingly. Jack had chosen to enter the 
service at a much later period than most lads; he was tall 
and manly for his age, and his countenance, if not strictly 
handsome, wore that expression of honesty and boldness 
which is sure to please. His spirit in not submitting 
to, and meeting Vigors when he had hardly recovered from 
his severe prostration of sea-sickness, had gained him with 
the many respect, and with all, except his antagonist and 
Mr. Smallsole, goodwill. Instead of being laughed at by his 
messmates, he was played with; for Jolliffe smiled at his 
absurdities, and attempted to reason him out of them, and 
the others liked Jack for himself and his generosity, and, 
moreover, because they looked up to him as a protector 
against Vigors, who had persecuted them all; for Jack had 
declared, that as might was right in a midshipman’s berth, 
he would so far restore equality, that if he could not put 
down those who were the strongest, at all events he would 
protect the weak, and, let who would come into the berth, 
they must be his master before they could tyrannise over 
those weaker than he. 

Thus did Jack Easy make the best use that he could of 
his strength, and become, as it were, the champion and 
security of those who, although much longer at sea and more 

69 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


experienced than he was, were glad to shelter themselves 
under his courage and skill, the latter of which had excited 
the admiration of the butcher of the ship, who had been a 
pugilist by profession. Thus did Jack at once take the 
rank of an oldster, and soon became the leader of all the 
mischief. We particularly observe this, because had it so 
happened that our hero had succumbed to Vigors, the case 
would have been the very reverse. He then would have 
had to go through the ordeal to which most who enter the 
naval service are exposed, which cannot be better ex- 
plained than by comparing it to the fagging carried to such 
an iniquitous extent in public schools. 

Mr. Asper, for his own reasons, made him his companion : 
they walked the night-watch together, and he listened to all 
Jack’s nonsense about the rights of man. And here Mr. 
Asper did good without intending it, for, at the same time 
that he appeared to agree with Jack, to secure his favour, he 
cautioned him, and pointed out why this equality could not 
exist altogether on board of a man-of-war. 

As for himself, he said, he saw no difference between a 
lieutenant, or even a captain, and a midshipman, provided they 
were gentlemen : he should choose his friends where he liked, 
and despised that power of annoyance which the service per- 
mitted. Of course, Jack and Mr. Asper were good friends, 
especially as when half the watch was over, to conciliate his 
good will and to get rid of his eternal arguing, Mr. Asper 
would send Jack down to bed. 

They were now entering the Straits, and expected to anchor 
the next day at Gibraltar, and Jack was forward on the fore- 
castle, talking with Mesty, with whom he had contracted a 
great friendship, for there was nothing that Mesty would not 
have done for Jack, although he had not been three weeks in 
the ship ; but a little reflection will show that it was natural. 

Mesty had been a great man in his own country ; he had 
suffered all the horrors of a passage in a slave ship; he had 
been sold as a slave twice ; he had escaped, but he found that 
the universal feeling was strong against his colour, and that 
on board of a man-of-war he was condemned, although free, 
to the humblest of offices. 


70 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


He had never heard any one utter the sentiments, which 
now beat in his own heart, of liberty and equality — we say 
now, for when he was in his own country before his captivity, 
he had no ideas of equality ; no one has who is in power : but 
he had been schooled; and although people talked of liberty 
and equality at New York, he found that what they preached 
for themselves they did not practise towards others, and that, 
in the midst of liberty and equality, he and thousands more 
were enslaved and degraded beings. 

Escaping to England, he had regained his liberty, but not 
his equality ; his colour had prevented the latter, and in that 
feeling all the world appeared to conspire together against 
him, until, to his astonishment, he heard those sentiments 
boldly expressed from the lips of Jack, and that in a service 
where it was almost tantamount to mutiny. Mesty, whose 
character is not yet developed, immediately took a fondness 
for our hero, and in a hundred ways showed his attachment. 
Jack also liked Mesty, and was fond of talking with him, and 
every evening since the combat with Vigors, they had gener- 
ally met in the forecastle to discuss the principles of equality 
and the rights of man. 

The boatswain, whose name was Biggs, was a slight, 
dapper, active little man, who, as captain of the foretop, had 
shown an uncommon degree of courage in a hurricane, so 
much so as to recommend him to the admiral for promotion. 
It was given to him ; and after the ship to which he had been 
appointed was paid off, he had been ordered to join H. M. 
sloop Harpy. Jack’s conversation with Mesty was interrupted 
by the voice of the boatswain, who was haranguing his boy. 
Tt’s now ten minutes, sir, by my repeater,' said the boatswain, 
'that I have sent for you' and Mr. Biggs pulled out a huge 
silver watch, almost as big as a Norfolk turnip. A Jew had 
sold him the watch; the boatswain had heard of repeaters, 
and wished to have one. Moses had only shown him watches 
with the hour and minute hands ; he now produced one with a 
second hand, telling him it was a repeater. 

'What makes it a repeater T inquired the boatswain. 

, 'Common watches,' said the cunning Jew, 'only tell the 
minutes and hours; but all repeaters tell the seconds.' 

7 .^ 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


The boatswain was satisfied — bought the watch, and, al- 
though many had told him it was no repeater, he insisted that 
it was, and would call it so. 

T swear,' continued the boatswain, fit 's ten minutes and 
twenty seconds by my repeater.' 

Tf you please, sir,' said the boy, T was changing my 
trousers when you sent for me, and then I had to stow away 
my bag again." 

'Silence, sir ; I'd have you to know that when you are sent 
for by your officer, trousers or no trousers, it is your duty to 
come up directly.' 

'Without- trousers, sir !' replied the boy. 

'Yes, sir, without trousers; if the captain required me, I 
should come without my shirt. Duty before decency.' So 
saying, the boatswain lays hold of the boy. 

'Surely, Mr. Biggs,' said Jack, 'you are not going to punish 
that boy for not coming up without his trousers !' 

'Yes, Mr. Easy, I am — I must teach him a lesson. We 
are bound, now that newfangled ideas are brought into the 
ship, to uphold the dignity of the service ; and the orders of - 
an officer are not to be delayed ten minutes and twenty seconds 
because a boy has no trousers on.' Whereupon the boatswain 
administered several smart cuts with his rattan upon the boy, 
proving that it was quite as well that he had put on his 
trousers before he came on deck. 'There,' said Mr. Biggs, 'is . 
a lesson for you, you scamp — and, Mr. Easy, it is a lesson for < 
you also,' continued the boatswain, walking away with a most 
consequential air. 

'Murder' Irish !' said Mesty— 'how him cut caper. De ^ 
Oder day he hawl out de weather, ear-ring, and touch him hat ■ 
to a midshipman. Sure enough, make um cat laugh.' - 

The next day, the Harpy was at anchor in Gibraltar Bay; 
the captain went on shore, directing the gig to be sent for him 
before nine o'clock; after which hour the Sally Port is only 
opened by special permission. There happened to be a ball 
given by the officers of the garrison on that evening, and a 
polite invitation was sent to the officers of H. M. sloop Harpy. 
As those who accepted the invitation would be detained late, 
it was not possible for them to come off that night. And as • 
their services were required for the next day. Captain Wilson 

72 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


allowed them to remain on shore until seven o’clock the next 
morning, at which hour, as there was a large party, there 
would be two boats sent for them. 

Mr. Asper obtained leave, and asked permission to take 
our hero with him; to which Mr. Sawbridge consented. 
Many other officers obtained leave, and, among others, the 
boatswain, who, aware that his services would be in request 
as soon as the equipment commenced, asked permission for 
this evening. And Mr. Sawbridge, feeling that he could be 
better spared at this than at any other time, consented. Asper 
and Jack went to an inn, dined, bespoke beds, and then 
dressed themselves for the ball, which was very brilliant, and, 
from the company of the officers, very pleasant. Captain 
Wilson looked on at the commencement, and then returned 
on board. Jack behaved with his usual politeness, danced till 
two o’clock, and then, as the ball thinned, Asper proposed 
that they should retire. Having once more applied to the 
refreshment-room, they had procured their hats, and were 
about to depart, when one of the officers of the garrison 
asked Jack if he would like to see a baboon, which had just 
been brought down from the rock; and, taking some of the 
cakes, they repaired to the court where the animal was chained 
down to a small tank. Jack fed the brute till the cakes were 
gone and then, because he had no more to give him, the 
baboon flew at Jack, who, in making his retreat, fell back into 
the tank, which was about two feet deep. This was a joke; 
and having laughed heartily, they wished the officer good- 
night, and went to the inn. 

Now, what with the number of officers of the Harpy on 
shore, who had all put up at the same inn, and other occu- 
pants, the landlord was obliged to put his company into 
double and treble-bedded rooms; but this was of little con- 
sequence. Jack was shown into a double-bedded room, and 
proceeded to undress; the other was evidently occupied, by 
the heavy breathing which saluted Jack’s ear. 

As Jack undressed, he recollected that his trousers were 
wet through, and to dry them he opened the window, hung 
them out, and then jammed down the window again upon 
them, to hold them in their position, after which he turned 
in and fell fast asleep. At six o’clock he was called, as he had 

73 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


requested, and proceeded to dress, but to his astonishment 
found the window thrown open and his trousers missing. It 
was evident that his partner in the room had thrown the 
window open during the night, and that his trousers having 
fallen down into the street had been walked off with by some- 
body or another. Jack looked out of the window once more, 
and perceived that whoever had thrown open the window had 
been unwell during the night. A nice drunken companion I 
have had, thought Jack; but what’s to be done? And in 
saying this, he walked up to the other bed, and perceived that 
it was tenanted by the boatswain. Well, thought Jack, as Mr. 
Biggs has thought proper to lose my trousers, I think I have 
a right to take his, or at least the wear of them to go on board. 

It was but last night he declared that decency must give way 
to duty, and that the orders of a superior officer were to be 
obeyed, with or without garments. I know he is obliged to ^ 
be on board, and now he shall try how he likes to obey orders 
in his shirt tails. So cogitating. Jack took the trousers of - 
the boatswain, who still snored, although he had been called, - 
and, putting them on, completed the rest of his dress, and 
quitted the room. He went to that of Mr. Asper, where he - 
found him just ready, and, having paid his bill — for Asper . 
had forgotten his purse— they proceeded down to the Sally - 
Port, where they found other officers waiting, sufficient to -- 
load the first boat, which shoved off, and they went on board. 
As soon as he was down below. Jack hastened to change his 
trousers, and, unobserved by any one, threw those belonging 
to Mr. Biggs on a chair in his cabin, and, having made a con- 
fidant of Mesty, who was delighted, he went on deck, and 
waited the issue of the affair. - 

Before Jack left the hotel, he had told the waiter that there 
was the boatswain still fast asleep, and that he must be roused 
up immediately; and this injunction was obeyed. The boat- 
swain, who had drunk too much the night before, and, as 
Jack had truly imagined, had opened the window because he 
was unwell, was wakened up, and, hearing how late it was, 
hastened to dress himself. Not finding his trousers, he rang 
the bell, supposing that they had been taken down to be 
brushed, and, in the meantime, put on everything else, that 
he might lose no time; the waiter who answered the bell 

74 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


denied having taken the trousers out of the room, and poor 
Mr. Biggs was in a sad quandary. What had become of them, 
he could not tell : he had no recollection of having gone to 
bed the night before ; he inquired of the waiter, who said that 
he knew nothing about them — that he was very tipsy when 
he came home, and that when he called him, he had found 
the window open, and it appeared that he had been unwell— 
he supposed that he had thrown his trousers out of the win- 
dow. Time flew, and the boatswain was in despair. ‘Could 
they lend him a pair 

‘He would call his master.’ 

The master of the inn knew very well the difference of 
rank between officers, and those whom he could trust and 
those whom he could not. He sent up the bill by the waiter, 
and stated that, for a deposit, the gentleman might have a 
pair of trousers. The boatswain felt in his pockets and remem- 
bered that all his money was in his trousers’ pocket. He could 
not only not leave a deposit, but he could not pay his bill. 
The landlord was inexorable. It was bad enough to lose his 
money, but he could not lose more. 

‘I shall be tried by a court-martial, by heavens !’ exclaimed 
the boatswain. ‘It ’s not far from the Sally Port : I ’ll make 
a run for it, and I can slip into one of the boats and get an- 
other pair of trousers before I report myself as having come 
on board ;’ so making up his mind, the boatswain took to his 
heels, and with his check shirt tails streaming in the wind, ran 
as hard as he could to where the boat was waiting to receive 
him. He was encountered by many, but he only ran the 
faster the more they jeered, and, at last, arrived breathless at 
his goal, flew down the steps, jumped into the boat, and 
squatted on the stern sheets, much to the surprise of the offi- 
cers and men, who thought him mad. He stated in a few 
words that somebody had stolen his trousers during the night ; 
and as it was already late, the boat shoved off, the men as 
well as the officers convulsed with laughter. 

‘Have any of you a pea jacket?’ inquired the boatswain of 
the men— but the weather was so warm that none of them had 
brought a pea jacket. The boatswain looked around, he per- 
ceived that the officers were sitting on a boat-cloak. 

‘Whose boat-cloak is that?’ inquired the boatswain. 

75 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘Mine/ replied Gascoigne. 

‘I trust, Mr. Gascoigne, you will have the kindness to lend 
it to me to go up the side with.' 

‘Indeed I will not,' replied Gascoigne, who would sooner 
have thrown it overboard and have lost it, than not beheld 
the anticipated fun ; ‘recollect I asked you for a fishing line, 
when we were becalmed off Cape St. Vincent, and you sent 
word that you'd see me d — d first. Now I’ll just see you the 
same before you have my boat-cloak.' 

‘Oh, Mr. Gascoigne, I’ll give you three lines, directly I get 
on board.' 

‘I daresay you will, but that won't do now. “Tit for tat,” 
Mr. Boatswain, and hang all favours,' replied Gascoigne, who 
was steering the boat, having been sent on shore for the 
others. ‘In bow — rowed of all.' The boat was laid alongside ' 
— the relentless Gascoigne caught up his boat-cloak as the • 
other officers rose to go on board, and rolling it up, in spite 
of the earnest entreaties of Mr. Biggs, tossed it into the main 
chains, to the man who had thrown the stern-fast ; and to 
make the situation of Mr. Biggs still more deplorable, the 
first lieutenant was standing looking into the boat, and 
Captain Wilson walking the quarter-deck. 

‘Come, Mr. Biggs, I expected you off in the first boat,' 
cried Mr. Sawbridge; ‘be as smart as you please, for the 
yards are not yet squared.' 

‘Shall I go ahead in this boat, and square them, sir ?' 

‘That boat, no; let her drop astern, jump up here and lower - 
down the dingey. What the devil do you sit there for, Mr. - 
Biggs? — you’ll oblige me by showing a little more activity, 
or, by Jove, you may save yourself the trouble of asking to 
go on shore again. Are you sober, sir ?' ' 

The last observation decided Mr. Biggs. He sprang up 
from the boat just as he was, and touched his hat as he passed 
the first lieutenant. 

‘Perfectly sober, sir, but I've lost my trousers.' 

‘So it appears, sir,’ replied Mr. Sawbridge, as Mr. Biggs 
stood on the planeshear of the sloop where the hammock 
netting divides for an entrance, with his shirt tails fluttering 
in the sea breeze ; but Mr. Sawbridge could not contain him- 
self any longer, he ran down the ship ladder which led on 

76 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


the quarter-deck choked with laughter. Mr. Biggs could 
not descend until after Mr. Sawbridge, and the conversation 
had attracted the notice of all, and every eye in the ship was 
on him. 

‘What ’s all this ?’ said Captain Wilson, coming to the gang- 
way. 

‘Duty before decency,’ replied Jack, who stood by, enjoying 
the joke. 

Mr. Biggs recollected the day before — he cast a furious 
look at Jack, as he touched his hat to the captain, and then 
dived down to the lower deck: 

If anything could add to the indignation of the boatswain 
it was to find that his trousers, \had come on board#before him. 
He now felt that a trick had been played him, and also that 
our hero must have been the party, but he could prove nothing ; 
he could not say who slept in the same room, for he was fast 
asleep when Jack went to bed and fast asleep when Jack 
quitted the room. 

The truth of the story soon became known to all the ship, 
and ‘duty before decency’ became a byword. All that the 
boatswain could do he did, which was to revenge himself upon 
the poor boy— and Gascoigne and Jack never got any fishing 
tackle. The boatswain was as obnoxious to the men as Vigors, 
and in consequence of Jack’s known opinions upon the rights 
of man, and his having floored their two greatest enemies, 
he became a great favourite with the seamen, and as all 
favourites are honoured by them with a sobriquet, our hero 
obtained that of Equality Jack. 


77 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER XH 

IN WHICH OUR HERO PREFERS GOING DOWN TO GOING UP ; A 
CHOICE, IT IS TO BE HOPED, HE WILL REVERSE UPON A MORE 
IMPORTANT OCCASION 

T he next day being Sunday, the hands were turned up to 
divisions, and the weather not being favourable, instead 
of the service, the articles of war were read with all due 
respect showed to the same, the captain, officers, and crew, 
with their hats off in a mizzling rain. Jack, who had been 
told by the captain that these articles of war were the rules 
and regulations of the service by which the captain, officers, 
and men were equally bound, listened to them as they were 
read by the clerk ‘with the greatest attention. He little 
thought that there were about five hundred orders from the 
Admiralty tacked on to them, which, like the numerous- 
codicils of some wills, contained the most important matter, 
and to a certain degree make the will nugatory. 

Jack listened very attentively, and, as each article was pro- 
pounded, felt that he was not likely to commit himself in 
that point, and, although he was rather astonished to find such 
a positive injunction against swearing, considered quite a 
dead letter in the ship, he thought that, altogether, he saw his 
way very clear. But to make certain of it, as soon as the hands 
had been piped down he begged the clerk to let him have a 
copy of the articles. 

Now the clerk had three, being the allowance of the ship, 
or at least all that he had in his possession, and made some 
demur at parting with one ; but at last he proposed — ^some 
rascal, as he said, having stolen his tooth-brush,'— that if Jack 
would 'give him one he would give him one of the copic of 
the articles of war. Jack replied that the one he had in use 
was very much worn, and that unfortunately he had but one 
new one, which he could not spare. Thereupon the clerk, 
who was a very clean personage, and could not bear that his 
teeth should be dirty, agreed to accept the one in use, as Jack 
could not part with the other. The exchange was made, and 

7 ^ 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Jack read the articles of war over and over again, till he 
thought he was fully master of them. 

'Now,’ says Jack, 'I know what I am to do, and what I 
am to expect, and these articles of war I will carry in my 
pocket as long as I ’m in the service ; that is to say, if they 
last so long, and provided they do not, I am able to replace 
them with another old tooth-brush, which appears to be the 
value attached to them.’ 

The Harpy remained a fortnight in Gibraltar Bay, and Jack 
had occasionally a run on shore, and Mr. Asper invariably 
went with him to keep him out of mischief ; that is to say, he 
allowed him to throw his money away on nobody more worth- 
less than himself. 

One morning Jack went down in the berth and found 
young Gosset blubbering. 

'What’s the matter, my dear Mr. Gosset?’ inquired Jack, 
who was just as polite to the youngster as he was to any- 
body else. 

'Vigors has been thrashing me with a rope’s end,’ replied 
Gosset, rubbing his arm and shoulders. 

'What for?’ inquired Jack. 

'Because he says the service is going to hell— (I’m sure 
it ’s no fault of mine) — and that now all subordination is de- 
stroyed, and that upstarts join the ship who, because they 
have a five-pound note in their pocket, are allowed to do just 
as they please. He said he was determined to uphold the 
service, and then he knocked me down — and when I got up 
again he told me that I could stand a little more— and then he 
took out his colt, and said he was determined to ride the high 
horse— and that there should be no Equality Jack in future.’ 

'Well,’ replied Jack. 

'And then he colted me for half an hour, and that ’s all.’ 

'By de soul of my fader, but it all for true, Massa Easy— 
he larrup um, sure enough— all for noteing, bad luck to him. 
I tink,’ continued Mesty, 'he hab debelish bad memory — and 
he want a little more of Equality Jack.’ 

'And he shall have it too,’ replied our hero; 'why, it’s 
against the articles of war, "all quarrelling, fighting, etc.” I 
say, Mr. Gosset, have you got the spirit of a louse?’ 

'Yes,’ replied Gosset. 


79 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


'Well, then, will you do what I tell you next time, and 
trust to me for protection V 

‘I don’t care what I do,’ replied the boy, 'if you will back 
me against the cowardly tyrant.’ 

‘Do you refer to me?’ cried Vigors, who had stopped at the 
door of the berth. 

‘Say yes,’ said Jack. 

‘Yes, I do,’ cried Gosset. 

‘You do, do you?— well, then, my chick, I must trouble you 
with a little more of this,’ said Vigors, drawing out his colt. 

‘I think that you had better not, Mr. Vigors,’ observed Jack. 

‘Mind your own business, if you please,’ returned Vigors, 
not much liking the interference. 'I am not addressing my 
conversation to you, and I will thank you never to interfere 
with me. I presume I have a right to choose my own ac- 
quaintance, and, depend upon it, it will not be that of a 
leveller.’ 

‘All that is at your pleasure, Mr. Vigors,’ replied Jack; 
‘you have a right to choose your own acquaintance, and so 
have I a right to choose my own friends, and further, to sup- 
port them. That lad is my friend, Mr. Vigors.’ 

‘Then,’ replied Vigors, who could not help bullying even at 
the risk of another combat which he probably intended to 
stand, ‘I shall take the liberty of giving your friend a 
thrashing’ ; and he suited the action to the word. 

‘Then I shall take the liberty to defend my friend,’ replied 
Jack; ‘and as you call me a leveller. I’ll try if I may not 
deserve the name’ — whereupon Jack placed a blow so well 
under the ear, that Mr. Vigors dropped on the deck, and was 
not in condition to come to the scratch, even if he had been 
inclined. ‘And now, youngster,’ said Jack, wresting the 
colt out of Vigors’s hand, ‘do as I bid you— give him a good 
colting— if you don’t I ’ll thrash you.’ 

Gosset required no second threat, the pleasure of thrashing 
his enemy, if only for once, was quite enough, and he laid 
well on. Jack with his fists doubled ready to protect him if 
there was a show of resistance, but Vigors was half stupefied 
with the blow under the ear, and quite cowed; he took his 
thrashing in the most passive manner. 

8o 


■r 




The pleasure of thrashing his enemy, if only for once. 


t. 







MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘That will do/ said Jack; ‘and now do not be afraid, 
Cosset ; the very first time he offers to strike you when I am 
not present, I will pay him off for it as soon as you tell me. 
I won’t be called Equality Jack for nothing.’ 

When Jolliffe, who heard of this, met our hero alone, he 
said to him, ‘Take my advice, boy, and do not in future fight 
the battles of others ; you ’ll find very soon that you will have 
enough to do to fight your own.’ 

Whereupon Jack argued the point for half an hour, and 
then they separated. But Mr Jolliffe was right. Jack began 
to find himself constantly in hot water, and the captain and 
first lieutenant, although they did not really withdraw their 
protection, thought it high time that Jack should find out that, 
on board a man-of-war, everybody and everything must find 
its level. 

There was on board of his Majesty’s sloop Harpy a man of 
the name of Easthupp, who did the duty of purser’s steward ; 
this was the second ship that he had served in ; in the former 
he had been sent with a draft of men from the Tender, lying 
off the Tower. How he had come into the service was not 
known in the present ship, but the fact was, that he had been 
one of the swell mob — and had been sent on board the Tender 
with a letter of recommendation from the magistrates to 
Captain Crouch. He was a cockney by birth, for he had been 
left at the workhouse of St. Mary Axe, where he had been 
taught to read and write, and had afterwards made his escape. 
He joined the juvenile thieves of the metropolis, had been 
sent to Bridewell, obtained his liberty, and by degrees had 
risen from petty thieving of goods exposed outside of the 
shops and market-stalls, to the higher class of gentlemen 
pickpockets. His appearance was somewhat genteel, with 
a bullying sort of an impudent air, which is mistaken for 
fashion by those who know no better. A remarkable neat 
dresser, for that was part of his profession ; a very plausible 
manner and address, a great fluency of language, although he 
clipped the king’s English; and, as he had suffered more 
than once by the law, it is not to be wondered at that he was, 
as he called himself, a hout-and-hout radical. During the 
latter part of his service, in his last ship, he had been employed 

8i 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


under the purser^s steward, and having offered himself in 
this capacity to the purser of H. M. sloop Harpy, with one or 
two forged certificates, he had been accepted. 

Now, when Mr. Easthupp heard of Jack’s opinions, he 
wished to cultivate his acquaintance, and with a bow and a 
flourish, introduced himself before they arrived at Gibraltar, 
but our hero took an immediate dislike to this fellow from his 
excessive and impertinent familiarity. 

Jack knew a gentleman when he met one, and did not 
choose to be a companion to a man beneath him in every way, 
but who, upon the strength of Jack’s liberal opinions, pre- 
sumed to be his equal. Jack’s equality did not go so far as 
that ; in theory it was all very well, but in practice it was only 
when it suited his own purpose. 

But the purser’s steward was not to be checked — a man 
who has belonged to the swell mob is not easily repulsed ; and, 
although Jack would plainly show him that his company was 
not agreeable, Easthupp would constantly accost him familiar- 
ly on the forecastle and lower deck, with his arms folded, 
and with an air almost amounting to superiority. At last. 
Jack told him to go about his business, and not to presume to 
talk to him, whereupon Easthupp rejoined, and after an ex- 
change of hard words, it ended by Jack kicking Mr. Easthupp, 
as he called himself, down the after-lower-deck hatchway. 
This was but a sorry specimen of Jack’s equality — and Mr. 
Easthupp, who considered that his honour had been com- 
promised, went up to the captain on the quarter-deck, and 
lodged his complaint — whereupon Captain Wilson desired 
that Mr. Easy might be summoned. 

As soon as Jack made his appearance, Captain Wilson 
called to Easthupp. ‘Now, purser’s steward, what is this you 
have to say?’ 

Tf you please, Captain Vilson, I am wery sorry to be 
obliged to make hany complaint of hany hofficer, but this Mr. 
Heasy thought proper to make use of language quite hun- 
becoming of a gentleman, and then to kick me as I vent 
down the atchvay.’ 

‘Well, Mr. Easy, is this true?’ 

‘Yes, sir,’ replied Jack: ‘I have several times told the 
fellow not to address himself to me, and he will. I did tell 

82 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


him he was a radical blackguard, and I did kick him down 
the hatchway.’ 

‘You told him he was a radical blackguard, Mr. Easy ?’ 

‘Yes, sir: he comes bothering me about his republic, and 
asserting that we have no want of ^ king and aristocracy.’ 

Captain Wilson looked significan ; v at Mr. Sawbridge. 

‘I certainly did hoffer my political l inions. Captain Vilson, 
but you must be avare that ve hall a\ . a hequal stake in the 
country— and it’s a Hinglishman’s birthright.’ 

‘I ’m not aware what your stake in the country may be, Mr. 
Easthupp,’ observed Captain Wilson, ‘but I think that if you 
used such expressions, Mr. Easy was fully warranted in 
telling you his opinion.’ 

‘I ham villing. Captain Vilson, to make hany hallowance 
for the eat of political discussion— but that is not hall that I 
ave to complain hof. Mr. Heasy thought proper to say that I 
was a swindler and a liar.’ 

‘Did you make use of those expressions, Mr. Easy?’ 

‘Yes, sir, he did,’ continued the steward; ‘and, moreover, 
told me not to cheat the men, and not to cheat my master, 
the purser. Now, Captain Vilson, is it not true that I am in 
a wery hostensible sitevation? but I flatter myself that I ave 
been veil edecated, and vos vonce moving in a wery different 
society — misfortains vill appin to us hall, and I feel my 
character has been severely injured by such impertations’ ; 
whereupon Mr. Easthupp took out his handkerchief, flour- 
ished, and blew his nose. ‘I told Mr. Heasy that I considered 
myself quite as much of a gentleman as himself, and at hall 
hewents did not keep company with a black feller (Mr. Heasy 
vill hunderstand the insinevation), vereupon Mr. Heasy, as I 
before said, your vorship, I mean you. Captain Vilson, 
thought proper to kick me down the atchvay.’ 

‘Very well, steward, I have heard your complaint, and now 
you may go.’ 

Mr. Easthupp took his hat off with an air, made his bow, 
and went down the main ladder. 

‘Mr. Easy,’ said Captain Wilson, ‘you must be aware that 
by the regulations of the service by which we are all equally 
bound it is not permitted that any officer shall take the law 
into his own hands — now, although I do not consider it 

83 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


necessary to make any remark as to your calling the man a 
radical blackguard, for I consider his impertinent intrusion of 
his opinions deserved it, still you'* have no right to attack any 
man’s character without grounds— and as that man is in an 
office of trust, you were not at all warranted in asserting that 
he was a cheat. Will you explain to me why you made use of 
such language?’ 

Now our hero had no proofs against the man, he had 
nothing to offer in extenuation, until he recollected, all at 
once, the reason assigned by the captain for the language used 
by Mr. Sawbridge. Jack had the wit to perceive that it 
would hit home, so he replied, very quietly and respectfully — 

‘If you please. Captain Wilson, that was all zeal.’ 

‘Zeal, Mr. Easy? I think it but a bad excuse. But pray, 
tftn, why did you kick the man down the hatchway — you 
must have known that that was contrary to the rules of the 
service.’ 

‘Yes, sir,’ replied Jack, demurely, ‘but that was all zeal, too.’ 

‘Then allow me to say,’ replied Captain Wilson, biting his 
lips, ‘that I think that your zeal has in this instance been very 
much misplaced, and I trust you will not show so much again.’ 

‘And yet, sir,’ replied Jack, aware that he was giving the 
captain a hard hit, and therefore looked proportionally 
humble, ‘we should do nothing in the service without it,— and 
I trust one day, as you told me, to become a very zealous 
officer.’ 

‘I trust so too, Mr. Easy,’ replied thd captain. ‘There, you 
may go now, and let me hear no more of kicking people 
down the hatchway. That sort of zeal is misplaced.’ 

‘More than my foot was, at all events,’ muttered Jack, as 
he walked off. 

Captain Wilson, as soon as our hero disappeared, laughed 
heartily, and told Mr. Sawbridge ‘he had ascribed his 
language to our hero as all zeal. He has very cleverly given 
me it all back again ; and really, Sawbridge, as it proves how 
weak was my defence of you, you may gain from this lesson.’ 

^ Sawbridge thought so too — but both agreed that Jack’s 
rights of man were in considerable danger. 

The day before the ship sailed, the captain and Mr. Asper 
84 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


dined with the governor, and as there was little more to do, 
Mr. Sawbridge, who had not quitted the ship since she had 
been in port, and had some few purchases to make, left her in 
the afternoon in the charge of Mr. Smallsole, the master. 
Now, as we have observed, he was Jack’s inveterate enemy — 
indeed Jack had already made three, Mr. Smallsole, Mr. 
Biggs the boatswain, and Easthupp the purser’s steward. 
Mr. Smallsole was glad to be left in command, as he hoped to 
have an opportunity of punishing our hero, who certainly laid 
himself not a little open to it. 

Like all those who are seldom in command, the master was 
proportionally tyrannical and abusive — he swore at the men, 
made them do the duty twice and thrice over on the pretence 
that it was not smartly done, and found fault with every 
officer remaining on board. 

'Mr. Biggs, — by God, sir, you seem to be all asleep forward ; 
I suppose you think that you are! to do nothing, now the first 
lieutenant is out of the ship? How long will it be, sir, before 
you are ready to sway away ?’ 

'By de holy poker, I tink he sway away finely, Massa 
Easy,’ observed Mesty, who was in converse with our hero on 
the forecastle. 

Mr. Smallsole’s violence made Mr. Biggs violent, which 
made the boatswain’s mate violent,— and the captain of the 
forecastle violent also ; all which is practically exemplified by 
philosophy in the laws of motion, communicated from one 
body to another; and as Mr. Smallsole swore, so did the 
boatswain swear— also the boatswain’s mate, the ca^ftain of 
the forecastle, and all the men ; showing the force of example. 

Mr. Smallsole came forward— 'Dammation, Mr. Biggs, 
what the devil are you about? can’t you move here?’ 

'As much as we can, sir,’ replied the boatswain, 'lumbered 
as the forecastle is with idlers’ — and here Mr. Biggs looked 
at our hero and Mesty, who were standing against the 
bulwark. 

'What are you doing here, sir?’ cried Mr. Smallsole to our 
hero. 

'Nothing at all, sir,’ replied Jack. 

'Then I ’ll give you something to do, sir. Go up to the 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


mast-head, and wait there till I call you down. Come, sir, I ’ll 
show you the way,’ continued the master, walking aft. Jack 
followed till they were on the quarter-deck. 

‘Now, sir, up to the main-top gallant mast-head, perch 
yourself upon the cross-trees— up with you.’ 

‘What am I fo go up there for, sir?’ inquired Jack. 

‘For punishment, sir,’ replied the master. 

‘What have I done, sir ?’ 

‘No reply, sir— up with you.’ 

‘If you please, sir,’ replied Jack, ‘I should wish to argue 
this point a little.’ 

‘Argue the point,’ roared Mr. Smallsole— ‘By Jove, I ’ll 
teach you to argue the point — away with you, sir.’ 

‘If you please, sir,’ continued Jack, ‘the captain told me 
that the articles of war were the rules and regulations by 
which every one in the service was to be guided. Now, sir,’ 
said Jack, ‘I have read them over till I know them by heart, 
and there is not one word of mast-heading in the whole of 
them.’ Here Jack took the articles out of his pocket and 
unfolded them. 

‘Will you go to the mast-head, sir, or will you not?’ said 
Mr. Smallsole. 

‘Will you show me the mast-head in the articles of war, 
sir?’ replied Jack ; ‘here they are.’ 

‘I tell you, sir, to go to the mast-head : if not, I ’ll be d — d 
if I don’t hoist you up in a bread-bag.’ 

‘There’s nothing about bread-bags in the articles of war,’ 
replied Jack ; ‘but I ’ll tell you what there is, sir’ ; and Jack 
commenced reading — 

‘All flag officers and all persons in or belonging to his 
Majesty’s ships or vessels of war, being guilty of profane 
oaths, execrations, drunkenness, uncleanness, or other scand- 
alous actions in derogation of God’s honour, and corruption of 
good manners, shall incur such punishment as ’ 

‘Damnation!’ cried the master, who was mad with rage, 
hearing that the whole ship’s company were laughing. 

‘No, sir, not damnation,’ replied Jack, ‘that’s when he’s 
tried above; but according to the nature and degree of the 
offence ’ 

‘Will you go to the mast-head, sir, or will you not?’ 

86 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


'If you please/ replied Jack, 1 ’d rather not/ 

'Then, sir, consider yourself under an arrest — I ’ll try you 
by a court-martial, by G — d ! Go down below, sir/ 

'With the greatest pleasure, sir,’ replied Jack, 'that’s all 
right, and according to the articles of war, which are to guide 
us all/ Jack folded up his articles of war, put them into his 
pocket, and went down into the berth. 

Soon after Jack had gone down, Jolliffe, who had heard the 
whole of the altercation, followed him: 'My lad,’ said Jolliffe, 
'I ’m sorry for all this ; you should have gone to the mast- 
head/ 

'I should like to argue that point a little,’ replied Jack. 

'Yes, so would everybody; but if that were permitted, the 
service would be at a stand-still— that would not do; you 
must obey an order first, and then complain afterwards, if the 
order is unjust.’ 

'It is not so in the articles of war.’ 

'But it is so in the service.’ 

'The captain told me that the articles of war were the 
guides of the service, and we were all equally bound to obey 
them.’ 

'Well, but, allowing that, I do not think your articles of 
war will bear you out. You observe, they say any officer, 
mariner, etc., guilty of disobedience to any lawful command. 
Now are you not guilty under that article?’ 

'That remains to be argued still,’ replied Jack. 'A lawful 
command means an order established by law; now where is 
that law? besides, the captain told me when I kicked that 
blackguard down the hatchway, that there was only the 
captain who could punish, and that officers could not take the 
law into their own hands ; why then has the master ?’ 

'His doing wrong as superior officer is no reason why you 
as an inferior should disobey him. If that were permitted, if 
every order were to be cavilled at and argued upon, as just or 
unjust, there would be an end of all discipline. Besides, 
recollect, that in the service there is custom, which is the same 
as law.’ 

'That admits of a little argument,’ replied Jack. 

'The service will admit of none, my dear boy: recollect 
that, even on shore, we have two laws, that which is written 

87 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


and the lex non scripta, which is custom ; of course we have 
it in the service, for the articles of war cannot provide for 
everything.’ 

‘They provide a court-martial for everything though,’ 
replied Jack. 

‘Yes, with death or dismissal from the service— neither of 
which would be very agreeable. You have got yourself into a 
scrape, and although the captain is evidently your friend, he 
cannot overlook it : fortunately, it is with the master, which is 
of less consequence than with the other officers ; but still, you 
will have to submit, for the captain cannot overlook it.’ 

‘I ’ll tell you what, Jolliffe,’ replied Jack, ‘my eyes now 
begin to be opened to a great many things. The captain tells 
me when I am astonished at bad language, that it is all zeal, 
and then I found out that what is all zeal in a superior to an 
inferior, is insolence when reversed. He tells me, that the 
articles of war are made to equally guide us all— the master 
breaks what is positively mentioned in the second article 
twenty times over and goes scot free, while I am to be 
punished, because I do not comply with what the articles do 
not mention. How was I to know that I ought to go to the 
mast-head for punishment? particularly when the captain 
tells me that he alone is to punish in the ship. If I obey an 
order in opposition to the captain’s order, is not that as bad as 
disobeying the captain ? I think that I have made out a very 
strong case, and my arguments are not to be confuted.’ 

‘I ’m afraid that the master will make out a very strong 
case, and that your arguments will never be heard.’ 

‘That will be contrary to all the rules of justice.’ 

‘But according to all the rules of service.’ 

‘I do believe that I am a great fool,’ observed Jack, after 
a pause. ‘What do you imagine made me come to sea, 
Jolliffe?’ 

‘Because you did not know when you were well off,’ replied 
the mate drily. 

‘That’s true enough ; but my reason was, because I thought 
I should find that equality here that I could not find on 
shor6.’ 

Jolliffe stared. 

‘My dear boy, I heard you say that you obtained those 
*88 




MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

opinions from your father; I mean no disrespect to him, but 
he must be either mad or foolish, if at his age he has not yet 
discovered that there is no such thing in existence.’ 

^I begin to think so,’ replied Jack; ‘but that does not prove 
that there ought not to be.’ 

‘I beg your pardon, the very non-existence proves that it 
ought not to be~“whatever is, is right,” — you might as well 
expect to find perfect happiness or perfection in the individual. 
Your father must be a visionary.’ 

‘The best thing that I can do is to go home again.’ 

‘No, my dear Easy, the best thing that you can do is to 
stay in the service, for it will soon put an end to all such 
nonsensical ideas ; and it will make you a clever, sensible 
fellow. The service is a rough, but a good school, where 
everybody finds his level — not the level of equality, but the 
level which his natural talent and acquirements will rise or 
sink him to, in proportion as they are plus or minus. It is a 
noble service, but has its imperfections, as everything in this 
world must have. I have little reason to speak in its favour, 
as far as I am concerned, for it has been hard bread to me, 
but there must be exceptions in every rule. Do not think of 
quitting the service until you have given it a fair trial. I am 
aware that you are an only son, and your father is a man of 
property, and therefore, in the common parlance of the world, 
you are independent; but, believe me, no man, however rich, 
is independent unless he has a profession, and you will find 
no better than this, notwithstanding ’ 

‘What?’ 

‘That you will be, most certainly, sent to the mast-head 
to-morrow.’ 

‘We ’ll argue that point,’ replied Jack; ‘at all events, I will 
go and turn in to-night.’ 


89 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER XIII 

IN WHICH OUR HERO BEGINS TO ACT AND THINK FOR HIMSELF 

W HATEVER may have been Jack’s thoughts, at all 
events they did not spoil his rest. He possessed in 
himself all the materials of a true philosopher, but there was a 
great deal of weeding still required. Jolliffe’s arguments, 
sensible as they were, had very little effect upon him, for, 
strange to say, it is much more easy to shake a man’s opinions 
when he is wrong than when he is right; proving that we 
are all of a very perverse nature. Well,’ thought Jack, ^if 
I am to go to the mast-head, I am, that’s all; but it does 
not prove that my arguments are not good, only that they 
will not be listened to ;’ and then Jack shut his eyes, and in a 
few minutes was fast asleep. 

The master had reported to the first lieutenant, and the 
first lieutenant to the captain, when he came on board the 
next morning, the conduct of Mr. Easy, who was sent for in 
the cabin, to hear if he had anything to offer in extenuation 
of his offence. Jack made an oration, which lasted more 
than half an hour, in which all the arguments he had brought 
forward to Jolliffe in the preceding chapter were entered fully 
into. Mr. Jolliffe was then examined, and also Mr. Smallsole 
was interrogated : after which the captain and the first lieu- 
tenant were left alone. 

‘Sawbridge,’ said Captain Wilson, ‘how true it is that any 
deviation from what is right invariably leads us into a scrape. 
I have done wrong : wishing to get this boy out of his father’s 
hands, and fearful that he would not join the ship, and 
imagining him to be by no means the shrewd fellow that he 
is in reality, I represented the service in a much more favour- 
able light than I should have done; all that he says I told 
him I did tell him, and it is I who really led the boy into error. 
Mr. Smallsole has behaved tyrannically and unjustly; he 
punished the lad for no crime; so that between the master 
and me, I am now on the horns of a dilemma. If I punish 
the boy, I feel that I am punishing him more for my own fault 
and the fault of others than his own. If I do not punish him, 

90 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


I allow a flagrant and open violation of discipline to pass 
uncensured, which will be injurious to the service.^ 

‘He must be punished, sir,’ replied Sawbridge. 

‘Send for him,’ said the captain. 

Jack made his appearance, with a very polite bow. 

‘Mr. Easy, as you suppose that the articles of war con- 
tained all the rules and regulations of the service, I take it 
for granted that you have erred through ignorance. But, 
recollect, that although you have erred through ignorance, 
such a violation of discipline, if passed unnoticed, will have 
a very injurious effect with the men, whose obedience is en- 
forced by the example shown to them by the officers. I feel 
so convinced of your zeal, which you showed the other day 
in the case of Easthupp, that I am sure you will see the 
propriety of my proving to the men, by punishing you, that 
discipline must be enforced, and I shall therefore send for 
you on the quarter-deck, and order you to go to the mast- 
head in presence of the ship’s company, as it was in presence 
of the ship’s company that you refused.’ 

‘With the greatest pleasure. Captain Wilson,’ replied Jack. 

‘And in future, Mr. Easy, although I shall ever set my 
face against it, recollect that if any officer punishes you, and 
you imagine that you are unfairly treated, you will submit 
to the punishment, and then apply to me for redress.’ 

‘Certainly, sir,’ replied Jack, ‘now that I am aware of your 
wishes.’ 

‘You will oblige me, Mr. Easy, by going on the quarter- 
deck, and wait there till I come up.’ 

Jack made his best bow, and exit. 

‘Old Jolliffe told me that I should have to go,’ said Jack 
to himself, ‘and he was right so far ; but hang me if I hadn’t 
the best of the argument, and that’s all I care about.’ 

Captain Wilson sent for the master, and reprimanded him 
for his oppression, as it was evident that there was no ground 
for punishment, and he forbade him ever to mast-head an- 
other midshipman, but to report his conduct to the first lieu- 
tenant or himself. He then proceeded to the quarter-deck 
and, calling for Mr. Easy, gave him what appeared to be a 
very severe reprimand, which Jack looked upon very quietly, 
because it was all seal on the captain’s part to give it, and 

91 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


all zeal on his own to take it. Our hero was then ordered up 
to the mast-head. 

Jack took off his hat, and took three or four steps, in 
obedience to the order — and then returned and made his best 
bow — inquired of Captain Wilson whether he wished him 
to go to the fore or to the main mast-head. 

‘To the main, Mr. Easy,' replied the captain, biting his lips. 

Jack ascended three spokes of the Jacob’s ladder, when he 
again stopped, and took off his hat. 

‘I beg your pardon. Captain Wilson — you have not in- 
formed me whether it is your wish that I should go to the 
top-mast, or the top-gallant cross-trees.’ 

‘To the top-gallant cross-trees, Mr. Easy,’ replied the 
captain. ^ 

Jack ascended, taking it very easy ; he stopped at the main- 
top for breath ; at the main-top-mast head, to look about him ; 
and, at last, gained the spot agreed upon, where he seated 
himself, and, taking out the articles of war, commenced them 
again, to ascertain whether he could not have strengthened 
his arguments. He had not, however, read through the 
seventh article before the hands were turned up — ‘up anchor !’ 
and Mr. Sawbridge called, ‘All hands down from aloft!’ Jack 
took the hint, folded up his documents, and came down as 
leisurely as he went up. Jack was a much better philosopher 
than his father. 

The Harpy was soon under weigh, and made all sail, steer- 
ing for Cape de Gatte, where Captain Wilson hoped to pick 
up a Spanish vessel or two, on his way to Toulon to receive 
the orders of the admiral. 

A succession of light breezes and calms rendered the pas- 
sage very tedious ; but the boats were constantly out, chasing 
the vessels along shore, and Jack usually asked to be employed 
on this service: indeed, although so short a time afloat, he 
was, from his age and strength, one of the most effective mid- 
shipmen, and to be trusted, provided a whim did not come 
into his head; but hitherto Jack had always been under orders 
and had always acquitted himself very well. 

When the Harpy was off Tarragona, it so happened that 
there were several cases of dysentery in the ship, and Mr. 
Asper and Mr. Jolliffe were two of those who were suffering. 

. 92 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


This reduced the number of officers ; and, at the same time, 
they had received information from the men of a fishing- 
boat, who, to obtain their own release, had given the intelli- 
gence, that a small convoy was coming down from Rosas 
as soon as the wind was fair, under the protection of two 
gunboats. 

Captain Wilson kept well off shore until the wind changed, 
and then, allowing for the time that the vessels would take to 
run down the distance between Tarragona and Rosas, steered 
in the night, to intercept them; but it again fell calm, and 
the boats were therefore hoisted out, with directions to pro- 
ceed along the shore, as it was supposed that the vessels could 
not now be far distant. Mr. Sawbridge had the command of 
the expedition in the pinnace; the first cutter was in charge 
of the gunner, Mr. Minus ; and, as the other officers were sick, 
Mr. Sawbridge, who liked Jack more and more every day, 
at his particular request gave him the command of the second 
cutter. As soon as he heard of it, Mesty declared to our hero 
that he would go with him ; but without permission that was 
not possible. Jack obtained leave for Mesty to go in lieu of 
a marine ; there were many men sick of the dysentery, and 
Mr. Sawbridge was not sorry to take an idler out of the ship 
instead of a working man, especially as Mesty was known 
to be a good hand. 

It was ten o’clock at night when the boats quitted the ship ; 
and, as it was possible that they might not return till late the 
next day, one day’s biscuit and rum were put on board each, 
that the crews might not suffer from exhaustion. The boats 
pulled in-shore, and then coasted for three hours, without 
seeing anything; the night was fine overhead, but there was 
no moon. It still continued calm, and the men began to feel 
fatigued, when, just as they were within a mile of a low 
point, they perceived the convoy over the land, coming down 
with their sails squared, before a light breeze. 

Mr. Sawbridge immediately ordered the boats to lie upon 
their oars, awaiting their coming, and arranging for the 
attack. 

The white lateen sails of the gunboat in advance were now 
plainly distinguishable from the rest, which were all huddled 
together in her wake. Down she came like a beautiful swan 

93 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


in the water, her sails just filled with the wind, and running 
about three knots an hour. Mr. Sawbridge kept her three 
masts in one, that they might not be perceived, and winded 
the boats with their heads the same way, so that they might 
dash on board of her with a few strokes of the oars. So 
favourable was the course of the gunboat, that she stood right 
between the launch on one bow and the two cutters on the 
other; and they were not perceived until they were actually 
alongside ; the resistance was trifling, but some muskets and 
pistols had been fired and the alarm was given. Mr. Saw- 
bridge took possession, with the crew of the launch, and 
brought the vessel to the wind, as he perceived that at the 
alarm all the convoy had done the same, directing the cutters 
to board the largest vessels, and secure as many as they could, 
while he would do the same with the launch, as he brought 
them to : but the other gunboat, which had not yet been seen, 
and had been forgotten, now made her appearance, and came 
down in a gallant manner to the support of her comrade. 

Mr. Sawbridge threw half his men into the launch, as she 
carried a heavy carronade, and sent her to assist the cutters, 
which had made right for the gunboat. A smart firing of 
round and grape was opened upon the boats, which con- 
tinued to advance upon her ; but the officer commanding that 
gunboat, finding that he had no support from his consort, 
and concluding that she had been captured, hauled his wind 
again, and stood out in the offing. Our hero pulled after her, 
although he could not see the other boats ; but the breeze had 
freshened, and all pursuit was useless : he therefore directed 
his course to the convoy, and, after a hard pull, contrived to 
get on board of a one-masted xebeque, of about fifty tons. 
Mesty, who had eyes as sharp as a needle, had observed that 
when the alarm was given several of the convoy had not 
rounded the point, and he therefore proposed, as this vessel 
was very light, that they should make short tacks with her, 
to weather the point, as if they were escaping, and by that 
means be able, particularly if it fell calm again, to capture 
some others. Jack thought this advice good. The convoy 
who had rounded the point had all stood out to seaward with 
the gunboat, and had now a fresh breeze. To chase them was 
therefore useless ; and the only chance was to do as Mesty had 

94 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


proposed. He therefore stood out into the breeze, and, after 
half-an-hour, tacked in shore, and fetched well to windward 
of the low point ; but finding no vessels, he stood out again. 
Thus had he made three or four tacks, and had gained, per- 
haps, six or seven miles, when he perceived signals of recall 
made to leeward, enforced with guns. 

'Mr. Sawbridge wants us to come back, Mesty.’ 

'Mr. Sawbridge mind him own business,' replied Mesty; 
'we nebber take all dis trubble to ply to windward for noting.' 

‘But, Mesty, we must obey orders.' 

'Yes, sar, when he have him thumb upon you; but now, 
must do what tink most proper. By de powers, he catch me 
'fore I go back.' 

'But we shall lose the ship.' 

'Find her again, by and by, Massa Easy.' 

'But they will think that we are lost.' 

'So much the better, nebba look after us, Massa Easy; I 
guess we have a fine cruise anyhow. Morrow we take large 
vessel — make sail, take more, den we go to Toulon.' 

'But I don't know my way to Toulon; I know it lies up 
this way, and that's all.' 

'Dat enough, what you want more? Massa Easy, 'pose 
you not find fleet, fleet soon find you. By God, nobody nebba 
lost here. Now, Massa Easy, let um go 'bout 'gain. Some- 
body else burn biscuit and boil kettle to-morrow for de gentle- 
men. Murder Irish! only tink, Massa Easy— I boil kettle, 
and prince in my own country !' 

Easy was very much of a mind with Mesty ; 'for,' argued 
Jack, 'if I go back now, I only bring a small vessel half full 
of beans, and I shall be ashamed to rhow my face. Now it is 
true that they may suppose that we have been sunk by the 
fire of the gunboat. Well, what then? they have a gunboat 
to show for their night's work, and it will appear that there 
was harder fighting than there has been, and Mr. Sawbridge 
may benefit by it.' (Jack was a very knowing fellow to have 
learnt so much about the service already.) ‘Well, and when 
they discover that we are not lost, how glad they will be to 
find us, especially if we bring some prizes— which I will do, 
or I'll not go back again. It's not often that one gets a com- 
mand before being two months at sea, and, hang me, now I've 

95 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


got it if I won’t keep it; and Mr. Smallsole may mast-head 
whom he pleases. I’m sorry for poor Gosset though; if 
Vigors supposes me dead how he will murder the poor little 
fellow — ^however it’s all for the good of the service, and I’ll 
revenge him when I come back. Hang me if I won’t take a 
cruise.’ 

‘1 talk to the men, they say they all ’tick to you like leech. 
Now dat job settled, I tink we better go ’bout again.’ 

A short time after this decision on the part of our hero, the 
day broke : Jack first looked to the leeward, and perceived the 
gunboat and convoy standing in for the shore about ten miles 
distant, followed by the Harpy, under all sail. He could also 
perceive the captured gunboat lying to in-shore to prevent 
their escape. 

'Harpy hab um all, by Gosh !’ cried Mesty, ‘I ab notion dat 
she soon settle um hash.’ 

They were so busy looking at the Harpy and the convoy, 
that, for some time, they quite forgot to look to windward. 
At last Mesty turned his eyes that way. 

Ham um, I see right last night; look, Massa Easy— one 
chip, one brig tree lateen — dem for us. By de power, but we 
make bon prize to-night.’ 

The vessels found out by Mesty were not above three miles 
to windward; they were under all sail, beating up for the 
protection of a battery, not far distant. 

‘Now, Massa, suppose dey see our boat, dey tink some- 
thing ; keep boat alongside, and shift her when we go ’bout 
every time : better not sail so fast now— keep further off till 
they drop anchor for de night; and den, when it dark, we 
take ’em.’ 

All Mesty’s advice was good, with the exception perhaps 
of advising our hero how to disobey orders and take a cruise. 
To prevent the vessel from approaching too near the others, 
and at the same time to let her have the appearance of doing 
her best, a sail was towed overboard under the bows, and 
after that they watched the motions of the Harpy. 

The distance was too great to distinguish very clearly, 
but Mesty shinned up the mast of the vessel, and reported 
progress. 

‘By Jasus, dare one gun— two gun — go it, Harpy. Won’t 

96 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


she ab um, sure enough. Now gunboat fire — dat our gun- 
boat — no, dat not ours. Now our gunboat fire — dat pretty — 
fire away. Ah, now de Harpy cum up. All ^mung em. 
Bung, bung, bung— rattle de grape, by gosh. I ab notion de 
Spaniard is very pretty considerable trouble just now, any- 
how. All hove to, so help me gosh — not more firing ; Harpy 
take um all — dare gunboat hove to, she strike um colours. 
By all powers, but suppose d^ tink we no share prize-money 
— dey find it not little mistake. Now, my lads, it all over, 
and,’ continued Mesty, sliding down the mast, 'I tink you 
better not show yourself too much; only two men stay on 
deck, and dem two take off um jackets.’ 

Mesty’s report was correct; the Harpy had captured the 
other gunboat, and the whole convoy. The only drawback to 
their good fortune was the disappearance of Mr. Easy and 
the cutter: it was supposed that a shot from the gunboat 
must have sunk her, and that the whole crew were drowned. 
Captain Wilson and Mr. Sawbridge seriously regretted the 
loss of our hero, as they thought that he would have turned 
out a shining character as soon as he had sown his wild oats ; 
so did Mr. Asper, because our hero’s purse went with him ; so 
did Jolliffe, because he had taken an affection for him; so did 
little Cosset, because he anticipated no mercy from Vigors: 
on the other hand, there were some who were glad that he was 
gone ; and as for the ship’s company in general, they lamented 
the loss of the poor cutter’s crew for twenty- four hours, which, 
in a man-of-war, is a very long while, and then they thought 
no more about them. We must leave the Harpy to make the 
best of her way to Toulon, and now follow our hero. 

The cutter’s crew knew very well that Jack was acting con- 
trary to orders, but anything was to them a change from the 
monotony of a man-of-war ; and they, as well as Mesty, highly 
approved of a holiday. 

It was, however, necessary that they should soon proceed 
to business, for they had but their allowance of bread and 
grog for one day, and in the vessel they found nothing except 
a few heads of garlic, for the Spaniards coasting down shore 
had purchased their provisions as they required them. There 
were only three prisoners on board, and they had been put 
down in the hold among the beans ; a bag of which had been 

97 


7 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


roused on deck, and a part put into the kettle to make soup. 
Jack did not much admire the fare of the first day — it was 
bean-soup for breakfast, bean-soup for dinner, and if you 
felt hungry during the intervals it was still bean-soup, and 
nothing else. 

One of the men could speak a little Lingua Franca, and 
the prisoners were interrogated as to the vessels to windward. 
The ship was stated to be valuable, and also one of the brigs. 
The ship carried guns, and that was all that they knew about 
them. As the sun went down the vessels dropped their anchors 
off the battery. The breeze continued light, and the vessel, 
which contained Jack and his fortunes, was about four miles 
to leeward. As for the Harpy, they had long lost sight of 
her, and it was now time to proceed to some arrangement. As 
soon as it was dark Jack turned his hands up and made a 
very long speech. He pointed out to the men that his zeal 
had induced him not to return to the ship until he had brought 
something with him worth having — that they had had nothing 
but beans to eat during the whole day, which was anything 
but agreeable, and that, therefore, it was absolutely necessary 
that they should better their condition : that there was a large 
ship not four miles off, and that he intended to take her ; and 
as soon as he had taken her he intended to take some more ; 
that he trusted to their zeal to support him on this occasion, 
and that he expected to do a great deal during the cruise. He 
pointed out to them that they must consider themselves as on 
board a man-of-war, and be guided by the articles of war, 
which were written for them all — and that in case they forgot 
them, he had a copy in his pocket, which he would read to 
them to-morrow morning, as soon as they were comfortably 
settled on board of the ship. He then appointed Mesty as 
first lieutenant ; the marine as sergeant ; the coxswain as boat- 
swain ; two men as midshipmen to keep watch ; two others as 
iboatswain’s mates, leaving two more for the ship’s company, 
who were divided into the larboard and starboard watch. The 
cutter’s crew were perfectly content with Jack’s speech, and 
their brevet rank, and after that they commenced a more 
important topic, which was, how they were to take the ship. 
After some discussion, Mesty’s advice was approved of ; 
which was that they should anchor not far ahead of the ship, 

98 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


and wait till about two o’clock in the morning, when they 
would drop silently down upon her in the cutter, and take 
possession. 

About nine o’clock the vessel was anchored as they pro- 
posed, and Jack was a little astonished to find that the ship 
was much larger than he had any idea of ; for, although po- 
lacca rigged, she was nearly the same tonnage as the Harpy. 
The Spanish prisoners were first tied hand and foot, and 
laid upon the beans, that they might give no alarm, the sails 
were furled, and all was kept quiet. 

On board of the ship, on the contrary, there was noise and 
revelry ; and about half-past ten a boat was seen to leave her 
and pull for the shore; after which the noise gradually 
ceased, the lights one by one disappeared, and then all was 
silent. 

‘What do you think, Mesty?’ said Jack; ‘do you think we 
shall take her ?’ 

‘Is it take her you mane ; sure enough we’ll take her, stop 
a bit — wait till um all fast asleep.’ 

About twelve o’clock there came on a mizzling heavy rain, 
which was very favourable for our hero’s operations. But as 
it promised soon to clear up, by Mesty’s advice they did not 
delay any longer. They crept softly into the boat, and with 
two oars to steer her dropped under the bows of the vessel, 
climbed up the fore chains, and found the deck empty. ‘Take 
care not fire pistol,’ said Mesty to the men as they came up, 
putting his finger to their lips to impress them with the 
necessity of silence, for Mesty had been an African warrior, 
and knew the advantage of surprise. All the men being on 
deck, and the boat made fast. Jack and Mesty led the way aft; 
not a soul was to be seen : indeed, it was too dark to see any- 
body unless they were walking the deck. The companion- 
hatch was secured, and the gratings laid on the after hatch- 
ways, and then they went aft to the binnacle again, where 
there was a light burning. Mesty ordered two of the men to 
go forward to secure the hatches, and then to remain there 
on guard— and then the rest of the men and our hero con- 
sulted at the wheel. 

‘By the power we ab the ship!’ said Mesty, ‘but must 
manage plenty yet. I tink der some d — n lazy rascal sleep 

99 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

’tween the guns. A lilly while it no rain, and den we see 
better. Now keep all quiet.’ 

There must be a great many men in this ship,’ replied our 
hero; ‘she is very large, and has twelve or fourteen guns— 
how shall we manage to secure them ?’ 

‘All right,’ replied Mesty, ‘manage all dat by and by. Don’t 
care how soon daylight come.’ 

‘It has left off raining already,’ observed Easy ; ‘there is a 
candle in the binnacle, suppose we light it and look round the 
decks.’ 

‘Yes,’ replied Mesty, ‘one man sentry over cabin-hatch, 
and another over after-hatch. Now den we light candle, and 
all the rest go round the deck. Mind you leave all your pistols 
on capstern.’ 

Jack lighted the candle, and they proceeded round the 
decks; they had not walked far, when, between two of the 
guns, they discovered a heap covered with gregos. ‘There 
de watch/ whispered Mesty; ‘all fast — ^not ready for dem 
yet’ 

Mesty blew out the candle, and they all retreated to the 
binnacle, where Mesty took out a coil of the ropes about the 
mizzen-mast, and cutting it into lengths, gave them to the 
other men to unlay. In a few minutes they had prepared 
a great many seizings to tie the men with. 

‘Now den we light candle again, and make sure of them 
lazy hounds,’ said Mesty; ‘very much oblige to dem all de 
same; they let us take de ship — mind now, wake one at a 
time, and shut him mouth.’ 

‘But suppose they get their mouths free and cry out?’ 
replied Jack. 

‘Den, Mr. Easy,’ replied Mesty, changing his countenance 
to an expression almost demoniacal — ‘there no help for it,’ — 
and Mesty showed his knife which he held in his right hand. 

‘Oh no ! do not let us murder them.’ 

‘No, massa— suppose can help it; but suppose they get 
upper hand — what become of us ? Spaniards hab knives, and 
use dem too, by de power!’ 

The observation of Mesty was correct, and the expression 
of his countenance when he showed his knife proved what a 
relentless enemy he could be if his blood was once roused — but 


100 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

Mesty had figured in the Ashantee wars in former days, and 
after that the reader need not be surprised. They proceeded 
cautiously to where the Spaniards lay. The arrangements of 
Mesty were very good. There were two men to gag them 
while the others were to tie their limbs. Mesty and Easy 
were to kneel by them with the candle, with raised knives to 
awe them into silence, or to strike home if their own safety 
required it. 

The gregos were removed off the first man, who opened his 
eyes at the sight of the candle, but the coxswain’s hand was 
on his mouth — he was secured in silence. The other two men 
were awaked, and threw off their coverings, but they were 
also secured without there being occasion to resort to blood- 
shed. 

‘What shall we do now, Mesty ?’ 

‘Now, sar,’ said Mesty, ‘open the after-hatch and watch— 
suppose more men come up, we make them fast; suppose 
no more come up, we wait till daylight— and see what take 
place.’ 

Mesty then went forward to see if the men were watchful 
on the forecastle ; and having again gone round the whole of 
the deck to see if there were any more men on it, he blew out 
the candle, and took his station with the others at the after- 
hatchway. 

It was just at break of day that the Spaniards who had to 
keep the morning watch having woke up, as people generally 
do at- that hour at which they expect to be called, dressed 
themselves and came on the deck, imagining, and very truly, 
that those of the middle watch had fallen asleep, but little 
imagining that the deck was in possession of Englishmen. 
Mesty and the others retreated, to allow them all to come up 
before they could perceive them, and fortunately this was 
accomplished. Four men came on the deck, looked round them, 
and tried to make out in the dark where their shipmates might 
be. The grating was slapped on again by Jack, and before 
they could well gain their eyesight, they were seized and 
secured, not however without a scuffle and some noise. 

By the time that these men were secured and laid between 
the guns it was daylight, and they now perceived what a fine 
vessel they had fairly taken possession of — but there was 

lOI 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


much to be done yet. There was, of course, a number of men 
in the ship, and moreover they were not a mile from a battery 
of ten guns. Mesty, who was foremost in everything,, left four 
men abaft and went forward on the forecastle, examined the 
cable, which was coir rope, and therefore easily divided, and 
then directed the two men forward to coil a hawser upon the 
foregrating, the weight of which would make all safe in that 
quarter, and afterwards to join them on the quarter-deck. 

‘Now, Mr. Easy, the great ting will be to get hold of cap- 
tain ; we must get him on deck. Open cabin-hatch now, and 
keep the after-hatch fast. Two men stay there, the others all 
come aft.’ 

‘Yes,’ replied Jack, ‘it will be a great point to secure the 
captain — but how are we to get him up ?’ 

‘You no know how to get captain up ? By de holy, I know 
very well.’ 

And Mesty took up the coils of rope about the mizzen-mast, 
and threw them upon the deck, one after another, making 
all the noise possible. In a short time there was a violent 
pull of a bell at the cabin-door, and in a minute afterwards 
a man in his shirt came up the cabin-hatchway, who was 
immediately secured. 

‘Dis de captain’s servant,’ said Mesty, ‘he come say no make 
such d — d noise. Stop a little— captain get in passion, and 
come up himself.’ 

And Mesty renewed the noise with the ropes over the cabin. 
Mesty was right; in a few minutes the captain himself came 
up boiling with indignation. At the sound of the cabin-door 
opening, the seamen and our hero concealed themselves behind 
the companion-hatch, which was very high, so as to give the 
captain time to get fairly on deck. The men already secured 
had been covered over with gregos. The captain was a most 
powerful man, and it was with difficulty that he was pinioned, 
and then not without his giving the alarm, had there been any 
one to assist him, but as yet no one had turned out of his 
hammock. 

‘Now we all right,’ said Mesty, ‘and soon ab de ship ; but 
I must make him ’fraid.’ 

The captain was seated down on the deck against one of the 
guns, and Mesty, putting on the look of a demon, extended 


102 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


above him his long nervous arm, with the sharp knife clutched, 
as if ready every instant to strike it into his heart. The 
Spanish captain felt his situation anything but pleasant. He 
was then interrogated as to the number of men in the ship, 
officers, etc., to all which questions he answered truly : he 
cast his eyes at the firm and relentless countenance of Mesty, 
who appeared but to wait the signal. 

T tink all pretty safe now,’ said Mesty. 'Mr. Easy, we now 
go down below and beat all men into the hold.’ 

Our hero approved of this suggestion. Taking their pistols 
from the capstern, they rushed down with their cutlasses, 
and leaving two men to guard the cabin-door, they were soon 
among the crew, who were all naked in their hammocks: 
the resistance, although the numbers were more than double 
of the English, was of course trifling. In a few minutes the 
Spaniards were all thrown down into the hold of the vessel, 
and the hatches placed over them. Every part of the ship 
was now in their possession except the cabin, and to that they 
all repaired. Our hero tried the door, and found it fast ; they 
beat it open, and were received with loud screams from one 
side of the cabin, and the discharge of two pistols from the 
other, fortunately without injury : those who had fired the 
pistols were an elderly man and a lad about the age of our 
hero. They were thrown down and secured; the cabin was 
searched, and nobody else found in it but three women, one 
old and shrivelled, the other two, although with their counte- 
nances distorted with terror, were lovely as Houris. So 
thought Jack, as he took oflF his hat and made them a very low 
bow with his usual politeness, as they crouched, half dressed, 
in a corner. He told them in English that they had nothing 
to fear, and begged that they would attend to their toilets. 
The ladies made no reply, because, in the first place, they did 
not know what Jack said, and in the next, they could not 
speak English. 

Mesty interrupted Jack in his attentions, by pointing out 
that they must all go upon deck— so Jack again took off his 
hat and bowed, and then followed his men, who led away the 
two prisoners taken in the cabin. It was now five o’clock in 
the morning, and there was movement on board of the other 
vessels, which lay not far from the ship. 

103 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


^Now, then/ said Jack, Vhat shall we do with the 
prisoners ?— could we not send the boat and bring our own 
vessel alongside, and put them all in, tied as they are? We 
should then get rid of them.' 

‘Massa Easy, you be one very fine officer one of dese days. 
Dat d — n good idea, anyhow; but suppose we send our own 
boat, what they tink on board of de oder vessel ? Lower down 
lilly boat from stern, put in four men, and drop vessel 'long- 
side — dat it.' 

This was done. The cutter was on the seaward side of the 
ship, and, as the ship was the outermost vessel, was concealed 
from the view of the Spaniards on board of the other vessels 
and in the battery on shore. As soon as the lateen vessel was 
alongside, the men who had already been secured on deck, 
amounting to seven, were lowered into her and laid upon the 
beans in the hold; all except the captain, the two cabin- 
prisoners, and the captain's servant. They then went down 
below, took off one part of the hatches, and ordered the 
Spaniards up from the hold : as they came on deck they were 
made fast and treated in the same manner. Mesty and the 
men went down to examine if there were any left concealed, 
and finding that they were all out returned on deck. The 
men who had been beaten down in the hold were twenty-two 
in number, making the whole complement of thirty. As soon 
as they had all been put into the xebeque, she was again hauled 
off and anchored outside, and Jack found himself in possession 
of a fine ship of fourteen guns, with three prisoners male and 
three prisoners female. 

When the men returned in the boat from the vessel in 
which the prisoners had been confined (the hatches having 
been secured over them, by way of further precaution), by 
the advice of Mesty, they put on the jackets and caps of the 
Spanish seamen, of which there was a plentiful supply below. 

'Now what's to be done, Mesty?' inquired Jack. 

'Now, sar, we send some of the men aloft to get sails all 
ready, and while they do that I cast loose this fellow,' pointing 
to the captain’s servant, 'and make him get some breakfast, 
for he know where to find it.' 

'Capital idea of yours, Mesty, for I 'm tired of bean-soup 
already, and I will go down and pay my respects to the ladies.' 

Mesty looked over the counter. 

104 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


'Yes, and be quick too, Massa Easy; d— n the women, 
they toss their handkerchief in the air to people in the battery, 
— quick, Massa Easy.' 

Mesty was right, the Spanish girls were waving theii 
handkerchiefs for assistance; it was all they could do, pool 
things. Jack hastened into the cabin, laid hold of the two 
young ladies, very politely pulled them out of the quartet 
gallery, and begged that they would not give themselves so 
much trouble. The young ladies looked very much confused, 
and as they could no longer wave their handkerchiefs, they 
put them up to their eyes and began to weep, while the elderly 
lady went on her knees, and held her hands up for mercy. 
Jack raised her up, and very politely handed her to one of the 
cabin lockers. 

In the meantime Mesty, with his gleaming knife and ex- 
pressive look, had done wonders with the captain’s steward, 
for such the man was; and a breakfast of chocolate, salt 
meat, hams and sausages, white biscuit and red wine, had 
been spread on the quarter-deck. The men had come from 
aloft, and Jack was summoned on deck. Jack offered his 
hand to the two young ladies, and beckoned the old one to 
follow : the old lady did not think it advisable to refuse his 
courtesy, so they accompanied him. 

As soon as the females came on deck, and found the two 
cabin prisoners bound, they ran to them and embraced them 
with tears. Jack’s heart melted, and* as there was now no 
fear, he asked Mesty for his knife, and cut loose the two 
Spaniards, pointing to the breakfast, and requesting that they 
would join them. The Spaniards made a bow, and the ladies 
thanked Jack with a sweet smile ; and the captain of the vessel 
who still lay pinioned against the gun, looked, as much as to 
say, Why the devil don’t you ask me ? but the fact was, they 
had had such trouble to secure him, that Jack did not much 
like the idea of letting him loose again. Jack and the seamen 
commenced their breakfast, and as the ladies and prisoners 
did not appear inclined to eat, they ate their share and their 
own too; during which the elderly man inquired of Jack if 
he could speak French. 

Jack with his mouth full of sausage, replied that he could, 
and then commenced a conversation, from which Jack learnt 
as follows. 


105 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


The elderly gentleman was a passenger with the young 
man, who was his son, and the ladies, who were his wife and 
his two daughters, and they were proceeding to Tarragona. 
Whereupon Jack made a bow and thanked him; and then 
the gentleman, whose name was Don Cordova de Rimarosa, 
wished to know what Jack intended to do with them, hoping 
as a gentleman, he would put them ashore with their effects, 
as they were non-combatants. Jack explained all this to 
Mesty and the men, and then finished his sausage. The men, 
who were a little elevated with the wine which they had been 
drinking, proposed that they should take the ladies a cruise, 
and at first Jack did not dislike the idea, but he said nothing; 
Mesty, however, opposed this, saying that ladies only made 
a row in a ship, and the coxswain sided with him, saying that 
they should all be at daggers-drawn. Whereupon Jack pulled 
out the ‘articles of war," and informed the men that there was 
no provision in them for women, and therefore the thing was 
impossible. 

The next question was, as to the propriety of allowing them 
to take their effects ; and it was agreed, at last, that they might 
take them. Jack desired the steward fo feed his master the 
captain, and then told the Spanish Don the result of the con- 
sultation ; further informing him that, as soon as it was dark, 
he intended to put them all on board the small vessel, when 
they could cast loose the men and do as they pleased. The 
Don and the ladies returned thanks, and went down to pack 
up their baggage, Mesty ordering two men to help them, but 
with a caution, that they were not to encumber themselves with 
any of the money, if there should happen to be any on board. 

The crew were very busy during the day making prepara- 
tions for sailing. The coxswain had examined the provender 
in the ship, and found that there was enough for at least three 
months, of water, wine, and provisions, independent of 
luxuries for the cabin. All thoughts of taking any more of 
the vessels were abandoned, for this crew was but weak to 
manage the one which they had possession of. A fine breeze 
sprang up, and they dropped their fore-topsails just as a boat 
was shoving off from the shore ; but seeing the fore-topsails 
loosed, it put back again. This was fortunate, or all would 
have been discovered. The other vessels also loosed their 
sails, and the crews were heard weighing the anchors. 

io6 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


But the Nostra Senora del Carmen, which was Jack’s prize, 
did not move. At last the sun went down, the baggage was 
placed in the cutter, the ladies and passengers went into the 
boat, thanking Jack for his kindness, who put his hand to his 
heart and bowed to the deck, and the captain was lowered 
down after them. Four men well armed pulled them along- 
side of the xebeque, put them and their trunks on deck, and 
returned to the ship. The cutter was then hoisted up, and as 
the anchor was too heavy to weigh, they cut the cable, and 
made sail. The other vessels followed their example. Mesty 
and the seamen cast longing eyes upon them, but it was of 
no use ; so they sailed in company for about an hour, and then 
Jack hauled his wind for a cruise. 


CHAPTER XIV 


IN WHICH OUR HERO FINDS THAT DISAGREEABLE OCCURRENCES 
WILL TAKE PLACE ON A CRUISE 

5 soon as the ship had been hauled to the wind. Jack’s 



ship’s company seemed to think that there was nothing 
to do except make merry, so they brought up some earthen 
jars full of wine, and emptied them so fast that they were 
soon fast asleep on the deck, with the exception of the man 
at the helm, who, instead of thirty-two could clearly make out 
sixty-four points in the compass, and of course was able to 
steer to a much greater nicety. Fortunately, the weather was 
fine, for when the man at the helm had steered till he could 
see no more, and requested to be released, he found that his 
shipmates were so overpowered with fatigue, that it was 
impossible to wake them. He kicked them one by one most 
unmercifully in the ribs, but it was of no use: under these 
circumstances, he did as they did, that is, lay down with them, 
and in ten minutes it would have taken as much kicking to 
awake him as he gave his shipmates. 

In the meantime the ship had it all her own way, and not 
knowing where she was to go she went round and round the 
compass during the best part of the night. Mesty had 
arranged the watches. Jack had made a speech, and the men 


107 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


had promised everything, but the wine had got into their 
heads, and memory had taken that opportunity to take a stroll. 
Mesty had been down with Jack examining the cabin, and in 
the captain's state-room they had found fourteen thousand 
dollars in bags : of this they determined not to tell the men, 
but locked up the money and everything else of value, and 
took out the key. They then sat down at the cabin table, and 
after some conversation, it was no matter of surprise, after 
having been up all the night before, that Jack laid his head 
on the table and fell fast asleep. Mesty kept his eyes open 
for some time, but at last his head sank down upon his chest, 
and he also slumbered. Thus about one o’clock in the morning 
there was not a very good watch kept on board of the Nostra 
Senora del Carmen. 

About four o’clock in the morning, Mesty tumbled forward, 
and he hit his head against the table, which roused him up. 

‘By de mass, I tink I almost fall asleep,’ cried he, and he 
went to the cabin window, which had been left open, and 
found that there was a strong breeze blowing in. ‘By de 
Lord, de wind ab come more aft,’ said Mesty, ‘why they not 
tell me ?’ So saying, he went on deck, where he found no one 
at the helm ; every one drunk, and the ship with her yards 
braced up running before the wind, just by way of a change. 
Mesty growled, but there was no time to lose; the top-sails 
only were set,— these he lowered down, and then put the 
helm a-lee, and lashed it, while he went down to call our hero 
to his assistance. Jack roused up, and went on deck. 

‘This nebber do, Massa Easy; we all go to devil together 
— dam drunken dogs — I freshen um up anyhow.’ So Mesty 
drew some buckets of water, with which he soused the ship’s 
company, who then appeared to be recovering their senses. 

‘By heavens!’ says Jack, ‘but this is contrary to the 
“articles of war”; I shall read them to them to-morrow 
morning.’ 

‘I tell what better ting, Massa Easy : we go lock up all de 
wine, and sarve out so much, and no more. I go do it at 
once, ’fore they wake up.’ 

Mesty went down, leaving Jack on deck to his meditations. 

‘I am not sure,’ thought Jack, ‘that I have done a very 
wise thing. Here I am with a parcel of fellows who have no 
respect for the articles of war, and who get as drunk as 

io8 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

David’s sow. I have a large ship, but I have very few hands ; 
and if it comes on bad weather, what shall I do? for I know 
very little— hardly how to take in a sail. Then— as for where 
to steer, or how to steer, I know not — nor do any of my men ; 
but, however, as it was very narrow when we came into the 
Mediterranean, through the straits, it is hardly possible to 
get out of them without perceiving it ; besides, I should know 
the Rock of Gibraltar again, if I saw it. I must talk to Mesty.’ 

Mesty soon returned with the keys of the provision-room 
tied to his bandana. 

‘Now,’ says he, ‘they not get drunk again in a hurry.’ 

A few more buckets of water soon brought the men to their 
senses : they again stood on their legs, and gradually recovered 
themselves. Daylight broke, and they found that the vessel 
had made an attempt for the Spanish coast, being within a 
mile of the beach, and facing a large battery a fleur d’eau; 
fortunately they had time to square the yards, and steer the 
ship along shore under the top-sails, before they were per- 
ceived. Had they been seen at daylight in the position that 
they were in during the night, the suspicions of the Spaniards 
would have been awakened; and had a boat been sent off, 
while they were all drunk, they must have been recaptured. 

The men, who perceived what danger they had been in, 
listened very penitently to Jack’s remonstrances, and our 
hero, to impress them more strongly on their minds, took out 
the articles of war, and read that on drunkenness from be- 
ginning to end ; but the men had heard it read so often at the 
gangway, that it did not make a due impression. As :Mesty 
said, his plan was better, and so it proved ; for as soon as Jack 
had done the men went down to get another jug of wine, and 
found, to their disappointment, that it was all under lock and 
key. 

In the meantime. Jack called Mesty aft, and asked him if 
he knew the way to Toulon. Mesty declared that he knew 
nothing about it. 

‘Then, Mesty, it appears to me that we have a better 
chance of finding our way back to Gibraltar ; for you know 
the land was on our left side all the way coming up the 
Mediterranean ; and if we keep it, as it is now, on our right, 
we shall get back again along the coast.’ 

Mesty agreed with Jack that this was the ne plus ultra of 
109 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


navigation ; and that old Smallsole could not do better with 
his ‘pig-yoke’ and compasses. So they shook a reef out of the 
top-sail, set top-gallant-sails, and ran directly down the coast 
from point to point, keeping about five miles distant. The 
men prepared a good dinner; Mesty gave them their allow- 
ance of wine, which was just double what they had on board 
the Harpy,— so they soon appeared to be content. One man, 
indeed, talked very big and very mutinously, swearing that if 
the others would join him, they would soon have liquor 
enough ; but Mesty gave him his look, opened his knife, and 
swore that he would settle him, and Jack knocked him down 
with a handspike ; so that, what with the punishment received, 
and that which was promised, the fellow thought that he 
might as well say no more about it. The fact is, that had it 
not been from fear of Mesty, the whole of the men would, in 
all probability, have behaved equally as bad ; nevertheless, 
they were a little staggered, it must be owned, at seeing Jack 
play so good a stick with the handspike. 

After this night Jack and Mesty kept watch and watch, 
and everything went on very well until they were nearly 
abreast of Carthagena, when a gale came on from the north- 
ward, and drove them out of sight of land. Sail after sail 
was reduced with difficulty, from their having so few hands, 
and the gale blew for three days with great fury. The men 
were tired out and discontented. It was Jack’s misfortune 
that he had but one good man with him : even the coxswain 
of the boat, although a fine-looking man, was worth nothing. 
Mesty was Jack’s sheet-anchor. The fourth day the gale 
moderated, but they had no idea where they were ; they knew 
that they had been blown off, but how far they could not tell, 
and Jack now began to discover that a cruise at sea without 
a knowledge of navigation was a more nervous thing than he 
had contemplated. However, there was no help for it : at 
night they wore the ship, and stood on the other tack, and at 
daylight they perceived that they were close to some small 
islands, and much closer to some large rocks, against which 
the sea beat high, although the wind had subsided. Again 
was the helm put up, and they narrowly escaped. As soon as 
the sails were trimmed, the men came aft, and proposed, that 
if they could find anchorage, they should run into it, for they 

no 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


were quite tired out. This was true; and Jack consulted with 
Mesty, who thought it advisable to agree to the proposal. 
That the islands were not inhabited was very evident. The 
only point to ascertain was, if there were good anchorage. 
The coxswain offered to go in the boat and examine; and, 
with four men, he set off, and in about an hour returned ^ 
stating that there was plenty of water, and it was as smooth 
as a mill-pond, being landlocked on every side. As they could 
not weigh the bower-anchor, they bent the kedge, and, run- 
ning in without accident, came to in a small bay, between the 
islands, in seven fathoms water. The sails were furled, and 
everything put in order by the seamen, who then took the boat, 
and pulled on shore. ‘They might as well have asked leave,' 
thought Jack. In an hour they returned, and, after a short 
discussion, came aft to our hero in a body. 

The coxswain was spokesman. He said that they had had 
hard work, and required now to have some rest,— that there 
were provisions on board for three months, so that there 
could not be any hurry, — and that they had found they could 
pitch a tent very well on shore, and live there for a short time, 
— and that as there was no harm in getting drunk on shore, 
they expected that they might be allowed to take provisions 
and plenty of wine with them; and that the men had desired 
him to ask leave, because they were determined to go, whether 
or no. Jack was about to answer with the handspike; but 
perceiving that the men had all put on their cutlasses, and 
had their pistols at their belt, he thought proper to consult 
Mesty, who, perceiving that resistance was useless, advised 
Jack to submit, observing that the sooner all the wine was 
gone the better, as there would be nothing done while it 
lasted. Jack, therefore, very graciously told them that they 
should have their own way, and he would stay there as long 
as they pleased. Mesty gave them the keys of the provision- 
hatch, and told them, with a grin, to help themselves. The 
men then informed Jack that he and Mesty should stay on 
board, and take care of the ship for them, and that they would 
take the Spaniard on shore to cook their victuals ; but to this 
Jack observed, that if he had not two hands, he could not 
obey their orders, in case they wished him to come on shore 
for them. The men thought there was good argument in 

III 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


that observation, and therefore allowed Jack to retain the 
Spaniard, that he might be more prompt to their call from 
the beach ; they then wished him good day, and begged that 
he would amuse himself with the 'articles of war.^ 

As soon as they had thrown a spare sail into the boat, with 
some spars to make a tent, and some bedding, they went 
down below, hoisted up two pipes of wine out of the three, a 
bag or two of biscuit, arms and ammunition, and as much of 
the salt provisions as they thought they might require. The 
boat being full, they shoved off, with three cheers of derision. 
Jack was sensible to the compliment : he stood at the gangway, 
took off his hat, and made them a polite bow. 

As soon as they were gone Mesty grinned with his sharp- 
filed teeth, and looking at our hero, said — 

T tink I make um pay for all dis — stop a little ; by de piper 
as played before Moses, but our turn come by and by.’ 

As for Jack, he said nothing, but he thought the more. In 
about an hour the men returned in the boat; they had for- 
gotten many things they wanted— wood to make a fire and 
several utensils ; they helped themselves freely, and having 
now everything that they could think of, they again went on 
shore. 

'How d — n lucky we nebber tell dem about the dollars/ 
said Mesty, as Jack and he were watching the motions of the 
men. 

'It is, indeed,’ replied Jack, 'not that they could spend them 
here.’ 

'No, Massa Easy, but suppose they find all that money, 
they take boat and go away with it. Now, I hab ’m in my 
clutch— stop a little.’ 

A narrow piece of salt pork had been left at the gangway ; 
Jack, without knowing why, tossed it overboard ; being almost 
all fat it sank very gradually. Jack watched it as it dis- 
appeared, so did Mesty, both full of thought, when they 
perceived a dark object rising under it : it was a ground shark, 
who took it into his maw, sank down, and disappeared. 

'What was that?’ said Jack. 

'That ground shark, Massa Easy, worst shark of all, you 
nebber see him till you feel him.’ And Mesty’s eyes sparkled 
with pleasure. 


II2 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


'By de powers, they soon stop de mutiny; now I hab ’em.’ 

Jack shuddered and walked away. 

During the day the men on shore were seen to work hard, 
and make all the preparations before they abandoned them- 
selves to the sensual gratification of intemperance. The tent 
was pitched, the fire was lighted, and all the articles taken on 
shore rolled up and stowed away in their places; they were 
seen to sit down and dine, for they were within hail of the 
ship, and then one of the casks of wine was spiled. In the 
meantime the Spaniard, who was a quiet lad, had prepared 
the dinner for Easy and his now only companion. The 
evening closed, and all was noise and revelry on shore; and as 
they danced, and sang, and tossed off the cans of wine by the 
light of the fire, as they hollooed and screamed, and became 
more and more intoxicated, Mesty turned to Jack with his 
bitter smile, and only said — 

‘Stop a little.’ 

At last the noise grew fainter, the fire died away, and 
gradually all was silent. Jack was still hanging over the 
gangway when Mesty came up to him. The new moon had 
just risen, and Jack’s eyes were fixed upon it. 

‘Now, Massa Easy, please you come aft and lower down 
little boat ; take your pistols and then we go on shore and 
bring off the cutter ; they all asleep now.’ 

‘But why should we leave them without a boat, Mesty?’ 
for Jack thought of the sharks, and the probability of the 
men attempting to swim off. 

‘I tell you, sar, this night they get drunk, to-morrow they 
get drunk again, but drunken men never keep quiet,— suppose 
one man say to others, “Let’s go board and kill officer, and 
then we do as we please,” they all say yes, and they all come 
and do it. No, sar — must have boat— if not for your sake, I 
must hab it, save my own life, anyhow, for they hate me and 
kill me first ; — ^by de powers, stop a little.’ 

Jack felt the truth of Mesty’s observation ; he went aft with 
him, lowered down the small boat, and they hauled it along- 
side. Jack went down with Mesty into the cabin and fetched 
his pistols. ‘And the Spaniard, Mesty, can we leave him on 
board alone?’ 

‘Yes, sar, he got no arms, and he see dat we have— but 

113 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EaSY 

suppose he find arms, he never dare do anything— I know de 
man.^ 

Our hero and Mesty went down into the boat and shoved 
off, pulling gently on shore ; the men were in a state of in- 
toxication, so as not to be able to move, much less hear. 
They cast off the cutter, towed her on board, and made her 
fast with the other boat astern. 

'Now, sar, we may go to bed ; to-morrow morning you 
will see.’ 

‘They have everything they require on shore,’ replied Easy ; 
‘all they could want with the cutter would be to molest us.’ 

‘Stop a little,’ replied Mesty. 

Jack and Mesty went to bed, and as a precaution against 
the Spaniard, which was hardly necessary, Mesty locked the 
cabin door — but Mesty never forgot anything. 

Jack slept that night— had melancholy forebodings which 
he could not shake off; indeed. Jack had reflected so much 
since he had left the ship, he had had his eyes so much 
opened, and had felt what a responsibility he had taken by 
indulging himself in a whim of the moment, that it might be 
almost said that in the course of one fortnight he had at once 
from a boy sprung up into a man. He was mortified and 
angry, but he was chiefly so with himself. 

Mesty was up at daylight, and Jack soon followed him; 
they watched the party on shore, who had not yet left the tent. 
At last, just as Jack had finished his breakfast, one or two 
made their appearance : the men looked about them as if they 
were searching for something, and then walked down to the 
beach, to where the boat had been made fast. Jack looked at 
Mesty, who grinned, and answered with the words so often 
repeated — 

‘Stop a little.’ 

The men then walked along the rocks until they were 
abreast of the ship. 

‘Ship ahoy!’ 

‘Halloo!’ cried Mesty. 

‘Bring the boat ashore directly, with a beaker of water.’ 

‘I knew dat,’ cried Mesty, rubbing his hands with delight. 
‘Massa Easy, you must tell them No.’ 

‘But why should I not give them water, Mesty?’ 

114 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


'Because, sar, den they take boat.’ 

'Very true,’ replied Easy. 

'Do you hear on board?’ cried the coxswain, who was the 
man who hailed — 'send the boat immediately, or we /II cut the 
throats of every mother’s son of you, by God!’ 

'I shall not send the boat,’ replied Jack, who now thought 
Mesty was right. 

'You won’t, — won’t you? — then your doom’s sealed,’ 
replied the man, walking up to the tent with the other. In 
a short time all the seamen turned out of the tent, bringing 
with them four muskets, which they had taken on shore with 
them. 

'Good heavens! they are not, surely, going to fire at us, 
'Mesty.’ 

'Stop a little.’ 

The men then came down abreast of the ship, and the 
coxswain again hailed and asked if they would bring the boat 
on shore. 

'You must say. No, sar,’ replied Mesty. 

'I feel I must,’ replied Jack, and then he answered the 
coxswain, 'No.’ 

The plan of the mutineers had been foreseen by the wily 
negro— it was to swim off to the boats which were riding 
astern, and to fire at him or Jack if they attempted to haul 
them up alongside and defend them. To get into the boats, 
especially the smaller one, from out of the water, was easy 
enough. Some of the men examined their priming and held 
the muskets at their hips all ready, with the muzzles towards 
the ship, while the coxswain and two men were throwing off 
their clothes. 

'Stop, for God’s sake, stop!’ cried Jack. 'The harbour is 
full of ground sharks,— it is, upon my soul!’ 

‘Do }'ou think to frighten us with ground sharks?’ replied 
the coxswain, 'keep under cover, my lad; Jack, give him a 
shot to prove we are in earnest, and every time he or that 
nigger show their heads, give them another, my lads.’ 

'For God’s sake, don’t attempt to swim,’ said Jack, in an 
agony ; 'I will try some means to give you water.’ 

'Too late now— you ’re doomed’ ; and the coxswain sprang 
off the rock into the sea, and was followed by two other men : 

115 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


at the same moment a musket was discharged, and the bullet 
whistled close to our hero’s ear. 

Mesty dragged Jack from the gangway, who was now 
nearly fainting from agonising feelings. He sank on the 
deck for a moment, and then sprang up and ran to the port to 
look at the men in the water. He was just in time to see the 
coxswain raise himself with a loud yell out of the sea, and 
then disappear in a vortex, which was crimsoned with his 
blood. 

Mesty threw down his musket in. his hand, of which he had 
several all ready loaded, in case the men should have gained 
the boats. 

‘By de powers, dat no use now!’ 

Jack had covered his face with his hands. But the tragedy 
was not complete : the other men, who were in the water, had 
immediately turned and made for the shore, but before they 
could reach it two more of these voracious monsters, attracted 
by the blood of the coxswain, had flown to the spot, and there 
was a contention for the fragments of their bodies. 

Mesty, who had seen this catastrophe, turned towards our 
hero, who still hid his face. 

‘I ’m glad he no see dat, anyhow,’ muttered Mesty. 

‘See what?’ exclaimed Jack. 

‘Shark eat em all.’ 

‘Oh, horrid ! horrid I’ groaned our hero. 

‘Yes, sar, very horrid,’ replied Mesty, ‘and dat bullet at 
your head very horrid. Suppose the sharks no take them, 
what then? They kill us and the sharks have our body. I 
tink that more horrid still.’ 

‘Mesty,’ replied Jack, seizing the negro convulsively by the 
arm, ‘it was not the sharks — it was I,— I who have murdered 
these men.’ 

Mesty looked at Jack with surprise. 

‘How dat possible?’ 

‘If I had not disobeyed orders,’ replied our hero, panting 
for breath, ‘if I had not shown them the example of disobe- 
dience, this would not have happened. How could I expect 
submission from them? It’s all my fault— I see it now— and, 
O Gk)d! when will the sight be blotted from my memory?’ 

‘Massa Easy, I not understand that,’ replied Mesty; ‘I 
ii6 



Jack had covered his face with his hands 







MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


tink you talk foolish — might as well say, suppose Ashantee 
men not make war, this not happen; for suppose Ashantee 
not make war, I not slave, — I not run away, — I not come 
board Harpy — I not go in boat with you— I not hinder men 
from getting drunk— and dat why they make mutiny— and 
the mutiny why the shark take um.’ 

Jack made no reply, but he felt some consolation from the 
counter-argument of the negro. 

The dreadful death of the three mutineers appeared to have 
had a sensible effect upon their companions, who walked away 
from the beach with their heads down and with measured 
steps. They were now seen to be perambulating the island, 
probably in search of that water which they required. At noon 
they returned to their tent, and soon afterwards were in a 
state of intoxication, hallooing and shouting as the day before. 
Towards the evening they came down to the beach abreast of 
the ship, each with a vessel in their hands, and perceiving 
that they had attrached the notice of our hero and Mesty, 
tossed the contents of the vessels up in the air to show that 
they had found water, and hooting and deriding, went back, 
dancing, leaping, and kicking up their heels, to renew their 
orgies, which continued till after midnight, when they were 
all stupefied as before. 

The next day Jack had recovered from the first shock 
which the catastrophe had given him, and he called Mesty 
into the cabin to hold a consultation. 

'Mesty, how is this to end?’ 

'How you mean, sar? end here, or end on board of de 
Harpyf 

'The Harpy! there appears little chance of our seeing her 
again— we are on a desolate island, or what is the same thing; 
but we will hope that it will be so : but how is this mutiny 
to end?’ 

'Massy Easy, suppose I please I make it end very soon, 
but I not in a hurry.’ 

'How do you mean, Mesty, not in a hurry?’ 

'Look, Massa Easy, you wish take a cruise, and I wish the 
same ting; now because mutiny you want to go back— but, 
by all de powers, you tink that I, a prince in my own country, 
feel wish to go back and boil kettle for de young gentlemen? 

I17 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


No, Massa Easy, gib me mutiny — gib me anything — but — 
once I was prince,' replied Mesty, lowering his voice at the 
last few emphatic words. 

‘You must one of these days tell me your history, Mesty,' 
replied Jack; ‘but just now let us argue the point in question. 
How could you put an end to this mutiny?' 

‘By putting an end to all wine. Suppose I go shore after 
they all drunk, I spile the casks in three or four places, and in 
the morning all wine gone — den dey ab get sober, and beg 
pardon— we take dem on board, put away all arms 'cept yours 
and mine, and I like to see the mutiny after dat. Blood and 
'ounds — but I settle um, anyhow.' 

‘The idea is very good, Mesty, why should we not do so?’ 

‘Because I not like run de risk to go ashore — all for what? 
to go back, boil de kettle for all gentlemans— I very happy 
here, Massa,' replied Mesty, carelessly. 

‘And I am very miserable,’ replied Jack; ‘but, however, I 
am completely in your power, Mesty, and I must, I suppose, 
submit.' 

‘What you say, Massa Easy — submit to me ?— no, sar, when 
you are on board Harpy as officer, you talk with me as friend, 
and not treat me as negro servant. Massa Easy, I feel — I 
feel what I am,’ continued Mesty, striking his bosom, ‘I feel 
it here — for all first time since I leave my country, I feel dat 
I am someting; but, Massa Easy, I love my friend as much 
as I hate my enemy — and you nebber submit to me — I too 
proud to allow dat, 'cause, Massa Easy — I am a man — and 
once I was a prince.' 

Although Mesty did not perhaps explain by words half so 
well as he did by his countenance, the full tide of feeling which 
was overflowing in his heart. Jack fully understood and felt it. 
He extended his hand to Mesty, and said — 

‘Mesty, — that you have been a prince, I care little about, 
although I doubt it not, because you are incapable of a lie; 
but you are a man, and I respect you, nay, I love you as a 
friend — and with my will we never part again.' 

Mesty took the hand offered by Jack. It was the first 
peace-offering ever extended to him, since he had been torn 
away from his native land — the first compliment, the first 
tribute, the first acknowledgment, perhaps, that he was not an 

ii8 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


inferior being ; he pressed it in silence, for he could not speak ; 
but could the feelings which were suffocating the negro but 
have been laid before sceptics, they must have acknowledged 
that at that moment they were all and only such as could do 
honour, not only to the prince, but even to the Christian. So 
much was Mesty affected with what had happened, that when 
he dropped the hand of our hero he went down into the cabin, 
finding it impossible to continue the conversation, which was 
not renewed until the next morning. 

‘What is your opinion, Mesty?— tell me, and I will be 
governed by it.’ 

‘Den, sar, I tell you I tink it right that they first come and 
ask to come on board before you take them — and, sar, I tink 
it also right, as we are but two and they are five, dat dey first 
eat all their provision— let em starve plenty, and den dey 
come on board tame enough.’ 

‘At all events,’ replied Jack, ‘the first overtures of some 
kind or another must come from them. I wish I had some- 
thing to do— I do not much like this cooping up on board 
ship.’ 

‘Massa, why you no talk with Pedro?’ 

‘Because I cannot speak Spanish.’ 

‘I know dat, and dat why I ask de question. You very 
sorry when you meet the two pretty women in the ship, you 
not able to talk with them — I guess that.’ 

‘I was very sorry, I grant,’ replied Jack. 

‘Well, Massa Easy, by and by we see more Spanish girl. 
Why not talk all day with Pedro, and den you able to talk 
with dem?’ 

‘Upon my word, Mesty, I never had an idea of your value. 
I will learn all the Spanish that I can,’ replied Jack, who was 
glad to have employment found for him, and was quite dis- 
gusted with the articles of war. 

As for the men on shore, they continued the same course, 
if not as before, one day succeeded another, and without 
varietv. It was, however, to be observed tha,t the fire was 
now seldomer lighted, which proved their fuel scarce, and the 
weather was not so warm as it had been, for it was now 
October. Jack learnt Spanish from Pedro for a month, 
during which there was no appearance of submission on the 

119 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


part of the mutineers, who, for the first fortnight, when 
intoxicated, used to come down and fire at Jack or Mesty, 
when they made their appearance. Fortunately drunken men 
are not good marksmen, but latterly this had been dis- 
continued, because they had expended their ammunition— 
and they appeared to have almost forgotten that the ship was 
there, for they took no notice of her whatever. 

On the other hand. Jack had decided that if he waited there 
a year, the overtures should come from them who had 
mutinied ; and now, having an occupation, he passed his time 
very quietly, and the days flew so fast that two months had 
actually been run off the calendar before he had an idea of it. 

One evening, as they were down in the cabin, for the 
evenings had now become very cold. Jack asked Mesty 
whether he had any objection to give him a history of his life. 
Mesty replied, that if he wished he was ready to talk ; and at 
a nod from our hero Mesty commenced as follows. 


CHAPTER XV 

IN WHICH MUTINY, LIKE FIRE, IS QUENCHED FOR WANT OF 
FUEL AND NO WANT OF WATER 

A lthough we have made the African negro hitherto 
talk in his own mixed jargon, yet, as we consider that 
in a long narration it will be tedious to the reader, we shall 
now translate the narrative part into good English, merely 
leaving the conversation with which it may be broken in its 
peculiar dialect. 

The first thing I recollect,' said Mesty, hs that I was 
carried on the shoulders of a man with my legs hanging down 
before, and holding on by his head. 

‘Every one used to look at me, and get out of the way, as 
I rode through the town and market-place, so loaded with 
heavy gold ornaments that I could not bear them, and was 
glad when the women took them off, but, as I grew older I 
became proud of them, because I knew that I was the son of 
a king; I lived happy, I did nothing but shoot my arrows, 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


and I had a little sword which I was taught to handle, and 
the great captains who were about my father showed me how 
to kill my enemies. Sometimes I lay under the shady trees, 
sometimes I was with the women belonging to my father, 
sometimes I was with him and played with the skulls and 
repeated the names of those to whom they had belonged, for 
in our country, when we kill our enemies, we keep their skulls 
as trophies. 

'As I grew older I did as I pleased, I beat the women and 
the slaves ; I think I killed some of the latter — I know I did 
one, to try whether I could strike well with my two-handed 
sword made of hard and heavy wood,— but that is nothing in 
our country. I longed to be a great captain, and I thought 
of nothing else but war and fighting, and how many skulls I 
should have in my possession when I had a house and wives 
of my own, and I was no longer a boy. I went out in the 
woods to hunt, and I stayed for weeks. And one day I saw a 
panther basking in the sun, waving his graceful tail. I crept 
up softly till I was behind a rock within three yards of it, 
and drawing my arrow to the head I pierced him through the 
body. The animal bounded up in the air, saw me, roared 
and made a spring, but I dropped behind the rock, and he 
passed over me. He turned again to me, but I had my knife 
ready, and, as he fixed his talons into my shoulder and breast 
I pierced him to the heart. This was the happiest day of my 
life ; I had killed a panther without assistance, and I had the 
wounds to show. Although I was severely hurt, I thought 
nothing of it. I took off the skin as my blood dropped down 
and mixed with that of the beast— but I rejoiced in it. 
Proudly did I go into the town dripping with gore and 
smarting with pain. Every one extolled the feat, called me 
a hero and a great captain. I filed my teeth, and I became a 
man. 

'From that day I ranked among the warriors, and, as soon 
as my wounds were healed, I went out to battle. In three 
fights I had gained five skulls, and when I returned they 
weighed me out gold. I then had a house and wives, and my 
father appointed me a Caboceer. I wore the plume of eagle 
and ostrich feathers, my dress was covered with fetishes, I 
pulled on the boots with bells, and with my bow and arrows 

I2I 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

slung on my back, my spear and blunderbuss, my knives and 
my double-handed sword, I led the men to battle and brought 
back skulls and slaves. Every one trembled at my name, and, 
if my father threatened to send me out, gold-dust covered the 
floor of his hall of council. Now, I boil the kettle for the 
young gentlemen! 

‘There was one man I liked. He was not a warrior or i 
should have hated him, but he was brought up with me in my 
father’s house, and was a near relative. I was grave and full 
of pride, he was gay and fond of music, and although there 
was no music to me equal to the tom-tom, yet I did not always 
wish for excitement. I often was melancholy, and then I 
liked to lay my head in the lap of one of my wives, under the 
shady forest behind my house, and listen to his soft music. 
At last he went to a town near us where his father lived, and 
as he departed I gave him gold-dust. He had been sent to my 
father to be formed into a warrior, but he had no strength of 
body, and he had no soul; still I loved him because he was 
not like myself. There was a girl in the town who was beauti- 
ful, many asked for her as their wife, but her father had long 
promised her to my friend; he refused even the greatest 
warrior of the place, who went away in wrath to the fetish- 
man, and throwing him his gold armlets asked for a fetish 
against his rival. It was given, and two days before he was 
to be married my friend died. His mother came to me, and 
it was enough. I put on my war dress, I seized my weapons, 
sat for a whole day with my skulls before me, working up 
my revenge, called out my men, and that night set off for 
the town where the warrior resided, killed two of his relatives 
and carried off ten of his slaves. When he heard what I had 
done, he trembled and sent gold; but I knew that he had 
taken the girl home as his wife, and I would not listen to 
the old man who sought to pacify me. Again I collected a 
larger force, and attacked him in the night : we fought, for 
he was prepared with his men, but after a struggle he was 
beaten back. I fired his house, wasted his provision ground, 
and taking away more slaves, I returned home with my men, 
intending soon to assault him again. The next day there came 
more messengers, who knelt in vain, so they went to my 
father, and many warriors begged him to interfere. My 


122 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


father sent for me, but I would not listen ; the warriors spoke, 
and I turned my back : my father was wroth and threatened, 
the warriors brandished their two-handed swords— they dared 
to do it; I looked over my shoulder with contempt, and I 
returned to my house. I took down my skulls, and I planned. 
It was evening, and I was alone, when a woman covered up to 
the eyes approached ; she fell down before me as she exposed 
her face. 

‘ “I am the girl who was promised to your relation, and I 
am now the wife of your enemy. I shall be a mother. I 
could not love your relation, for he was no warrior. It is not 
true that my husband asked for a fetish— it was I who bought 
it, for I would not wed him. Kill me and be satisfied.” 

‘She was very beautiful, and I wondered not that my enemy 
loved her — and she was with child — it was his child, and she 
had fetished my friend to death. I raised my sword to strike, 
and she did not shrink ; it saved her life. “Thou art fit to be 
the mother of warriors,” said I, as I dropped my sword, “and 
thou shalt be my wife, but first his child shall be born, and I 
will have thy husband’s skull.” 

‘ “No, no,” replied she, “I will be the mother of no warriors 
but my. present husband, whom I love ; if you keep me as 
your slave I will die.” 

‘I told her she said foolish things, and sent her to the 
women’s apartment, with orders to be watched ; but she hardly 
had been locked up before she drew her knife, plunged it 
into her heart, and died. 

‘When the king my father heard this he sent me a message : 
“Be satisfied with the blood that has been shed, it is enough” 
— but I turned away, for I wished for mine enemy’s skull. 
That night I attacked him again and met him hand to 
hand ; I killed him, and carried home his skull, and I was 
appeased. 

‘But all the great warriors were wroth, and my father could 
not restrain them. They called out their men, and I called 
ofit my men, and I had a large body, for my name was terrible. 
But the force raised against me was twice that of mine, and I 
retreated to the bush ; after a while we met and fought, and 
I killed many, but my men were too few and were over- 
powered,— the fetish had been sent out against me, and their 

123 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


hearts melted; at last I sank down with my wounds, for I 
bled at every pore, and I told my men who were about me to 
take off my feathers and my dress and boots, that my enemies 
might not have my skull : they did so, and I crawled into the 
bush to die. But I was not to die ; I was recovering, when 
I was discovered by those who steal men to sell them : I was 
bound, and fastened to a chain with many more. I, a prince 
and a warrior, who could show the white skulls of his enemies 
—I offered to procure gold, but they derided me; they 
dragged me down to the coast, and sold me to the Whites. 
Little did I think, in my pride, that I should be a slave. I 
knew that I was to die, and hoped to die in battle; my skull 
would have been more prized than all the gold in the earth, 
and my skin would have been stuffed and hung up in a 
fetish-house— instead of which, I now boil the kettle for the 
young gentlemen.’ 

'Well,’ replied Jack, 'that’s better than being killed and 
stuffed.’ 

'Mayhap it is,’ replied Mesty, 'I tink very different now 
dan I tink den— but still, it women’s work and not suit me. 

'They put me with others into a cave until the ship came, 
and then we were sent on board, put in irons, and down in the 
hold, where you could not sit upright; I wanted to die, but 
could not; others died every day, but I lived. I was landed 
in America, all bone, and I fetched very little money — they 
laughed at me as they bid their dollars : at last a man took me 
away, and I was on a plantation with hundreds more, but too 
ill to work, and not intending to work. The other slaves asked 
me if I was a fetish-man ; I said yes, and I would fetish any 
man that I did not like : one man laughed, and I held up my 
finger — I was too weak to get up, for my blood had long 
boiled with fever— and I said to him, *'You shall die” for I 
meant to have killed him as soon as I was well. He went 
away, and in three days he was dead. I don’t know how, but 
all the slaves feared me, and my master feared me, for he 
had seen the man die, and he, although he was a white man, 
believed in fetish, and he wished to sell me again ; but no one 
would buy a fetish-man, so he made friends with me, for I 
told him if I was beat he should die, and he believed me. He 
took me into his house and I was his chief man, and I would 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


not let the other slaves steal, and he was content. He took me 
with him to New York, and there after two years, when I 
had learnt English, I ran away and got on board of an 
English ship, and they told me to cook. I left the ship as 
soon as I came to England, and offered myself to another, 
and they said they did not want a cook ; and I went to another, 
and they asked me if I was a good cook : everybody seemed 
to think that a black must be a cook and nothing else. At 
last I starve, and I go on board man-of-war, and here I am, 
after having been a warrior and a prince, cook, steward and 
everyting else, boiling kettle for de young gentlemen.’ 

'Well,’ replied Jack, 'at all events that is better than being 
a slave.’ 

Mesty made no reply : any one who knows the life of a 
midshipman’s servant will not be surprised at his silence. 

'Now, tell me, do you think you were right in being so 
revengeful, when you were in your own country?’ inquired 
Jack. 

'I tink so den, Massa Easy; sometimes when my blood 
boil, I tink so now— oder time, I no know what to tink— but 
when a man love very much, he hate very much.’ 

'But you are now a Christian, Mesty.’ 

'I hear all that your people say,’ replied the negro, 'and it 
make me tink — I no longer believe in fetish, anyhow.’ 

'Our religion tells us to love our enemies.’ 

'Yes, I heard parson say dat— but den what we do with 
our friends, Massa Easy?’ 

'Love them too.’ 

'I no understand dat,' Massa Easy. I love you, because 
you good, and treat me well. Mr. Vigors, he bully and treat 
me ill, how possible to love him? By de power, I hate him, 
and wish I had him skull. You tink little Massa Cosset love 
him ?’ 

'No,’ replied Jack, laughing, 'I ’m afraid that he would like 
to have his skull as well as you, Mesty — but at all events we 
must try and forgive those who injure us.’ 

‘Then, Massa Easy, I tink so too — too much revenge very 
bad. It very easy to hate, but not very easy to forgive, so I 
tink that if a man forgive he hab more soul in him, he more 
of a man/ 


125 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘After all/ thought Jack, ‘Mesty is about as good a 
Christian as most people.' 

‘What that ?’ cried Mesty, looking out of the cabin window ; 
‘ah ! d — n drunken dogs ; they set fire to tent.' 

Jack looked, and perceived that the tent on shore was in 
flames. 

‘I tink these cold nights cool their courage anyhow,’ 
observed Mesty. ‘Massa Easy, you see they soon ask per- 
mission to come on board.' 

Jack thought so too, and was most anxious to be off, for, 
on looking into the lockers in the state-room he had found a 
chart of the Mediterranean, which he had studied very atten- 
tively. He had found out the Rock of Gibraltar, and had 
traced the Harpy's course up to Cape de Gatte, and thence to 
Tarragona— and, after a while, had summoned Mesty to a 
cabinet council. 

‘See, Mesty,' said Jack, ‘I begin to make it out; here is 
Gibraltar, and Cape de Gatte, and Tarragona — itj was here- 
about we were when we took the ship, and, if you recollect, 
we had passed Cape de Gatte two days before we were blown 
off from the land, so that we had gone about twelve inches, 
and had only four more to go.' 

‘Yes, Massa Easy, I see all dat.' 

‘Well, then, we were blown off shore by the wind, and 
must of course have come down this way; and here, you see, 
are three little islands, called Zaffarine Islands, and with no 
names of towns upon them, and therefore uninhabited; and 
you see they lie just like islands we are anchored among 
now — we must be at the Zaffarine Islands — and only six 
inches from Gibraltar.' 

‘I see, Massa Easy, dat all right — ^but six debbilish long 
inches.' 

‘Now, Mesty, you know the compass on deck has a 
flourishing thing for the north point— and here is a compass 
with a north point also. Now the north point from the 
Zaffarine Islands leads out to the Spanish coast again, and 
Gibraltar lies five or six points of the compass to this side of 
it — if we steer that way we shall get to Gibraltar.' 

‘All right, Massa Easy,' replied Mesty; and Jack was 
right, with the exception of the variation, which he knew 
nothing about. 


126 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


To make sure, Jack brought one of the compasses down 
from deck, and compared them. He then lifted off the glass, 
counted the points of the compass to the westward, and 
marked the corresponding one on the binnacle compass with 
his pen. 

‘There,’ said he, ‘that is the way to Gibraltar, and as soon 
as the mutiny is quelled, and the wind is fair, I ’ll be off.’ 


CHAPTER XVI 


IN WHICH jack’s cruise IS ENDED, AND HE REGAINS 
THE HARPY, 


t 


FEW more days passed, and, as was expected, the 



XjL mutineers could hold out no longer. In the first place, 
they had put in the spile of the second cask of wine so loosely 
when they were tipsy that it dropped out, and all the wine 
ran out, so that there had been none left for three or four 
days ; in the next, their fuel had long been expended, and 
they had latterly eaten their meat raw ; the loss of their tent, 
which had been fired by their carelessness, had been followed 
by four days and nights of continual rain. Everything they 
had had been soaked through and through, and they were 
worn out, shivering with -cold, and starving. Hanging they 
thought better than dying by inches from starvation; and, 
yielding to the imperious demands of hunger, they came down 
to the beach, abreast of the ship, and dropped down on their 


knees. 


‘I tell you so, Massa Easy,’ said Mesty: ‘d— n rascals, they 
forget they come down fire musket at us every day : by all de 
powers, Mesty not forget it.’ 

‘Ship ahoy'!’ cried one of the men on shore. 

‘What do you want?’ replied Jack. 

‘Have pity on us, sir — mercy!’ exclaimed the other men, 
‘we will return to our duty.’ 

‘Debbil doubt em!’ 

‘What shall I say, Mesty?’ 

‘Tell em no, first, Massa Easy — tell em to starve and be 


d-d.’ 


127 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘I cannot take mutineers on board/ replied Jack. 

Well, then, our blood be on your hands, Mr. Easy,’ replied 
the first man who had spoken. ‘If we are to die, it must not 
be by inches — if you will not take us, the sharks shall — it is 
but a crunch, and all is over. What do you say, my lads? 
let ’s all rush in together : good-bye, Mr. Easy, I hope you ’ll 
forgive us when we’re dead; it was all that rascal Johnson, 
the coxswain, who persuaded us. Come, my lads, it ’s no use 
thinking of it, the sooner done the better — let us shake hands, 
and then make one run of it.’ 

It appeared that the poor fellows had already made up their 
minds to do this, if our hero, persuaded by Mesty, had refused 
to take them on board. They shook hands all round, and then 
walking a few yards from the beach, stood in a line while the 
man gave the signal — one— two. 

‘Stop,’ cried Jack, who had not forgotten the dreadful scene 
which had already taken place, — ‘stop.’ 

The men paused. 

‘What will you promise if I take you on board ?’ 

‘To do our duty cheerfully till we join the ship, and then 
be hung as an example to all mutineers,’ replied the men. 

‘Dat very fair,’ replied Mesty; ‘take dem at their word, 
Massa Easy.’ 

‘Very well,’ replied Jack, ‘I accept your conditions ; and we 
will come for you.’ 

Jack and Mesty hauled up the boat, stuck their pistols in 
their belts, and pulled to the shore. The men, as they stepped 
in, touched their hats respectfully to our hero, but said nothing. 
On their arrival on board Jack read that part of the articles of 
war relative to mutiny, by which the men were reminded of 
the very satisfactory fact, ‘that they were to suffer death’; 
and then made a speech which, to men who were starving, 
appeared to be interminable. However, there is an end to 
everything in this world, and so there was to Jack’s harangue ; 
after which Mesty gave them some biscuit, which they 
devoured in thankfulness, until they could get something 
better. The next morning the wind was fair, they weighed 
their kedge with some difficulty, and ran out of the harbour : 
the men appeared very contrite, worked well but in silence, for 
they had no very pleasant anticipations, but hope always 

128 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


remains with us, and each of the men, although he had no 
doubt but that the others would be hung, hoped that he would 
escape with a sound flogging. The wind, however, did not 
allow them to steer their course long; before night it was 
contrary, and they fell off three points to the northward. 
‘However,^ as Jack observed, ^at all events we shall make the 
Spanish coast, and then we must run down it to Gibraltar: 
I don’t care — I understand navigation much better than I 
did.’ The next morning they found themselves, with a very 
light breeze, under a high cape, and, as the sun rose, they 
observed a large vessel on shore, about two miles to the west- 
ward of them, and another outside, about four miles off. 
Mesty took the glass and examined the one outside, which, 
on a sudden, had let fall all her canvas, and was now running 
for the shore, steering for the cape under which Jack’s vessel 
lay. Mesty put down the glass. 

‘Massa Easy, I tink dat de Harpy/ 

One of the seamen took the glass and examined her, while 
the others who stood by showed great agitation. 

'Yes, it is the Harpy/ said the seaman. ‘Oh, Mr. Easy, will 
you forgive us?’ continued the man, and he and the others 
fell on their knees. ‘Do not tell all, for God’s sake, Mr. Easy.’ 

Jack’s heart melted; he looked at Mesty. 

‘I tink,’ said Mesty apart to our hero, ‘dat with what them 
hab suffer already, suppose they get seven dozen apiece, dat 
quite enough.’ 

Jack thought that even half that punishment would suffice ; 
so he told the men, that although he must state what had 
occurred, he would not tell all, and would contrive to get them 
off as well as he could. He was about to make a long speech, 
but a gun from the Harpy, which had now come up within 
range, made him defer it till a more convenient opportunity. 
At the same time the vessel in shore hoisted Spanish colours, 
and fired a gun. 

‘By de powers but we got in the middle of it,’ cried Mesty ; 
Harpy tink us Spaniard. Now, my lads, get all gun ready, 
bring up powder and shot. Massa, now us fire at Spaniard — 
Harpy not fire at us— no ab English colours on board — dat 
all we must do.’ 

The men set to with a will ; the guns were all loaded, and 
129 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


were soon cast loose and primed, during which operations it 
fell calm, and the sails of all three vessels flapped against 
their masts. The Harpy was then about two miles from 
Jack’s vessel, and the Spaniard about a mile from him, with 
all her boats ahead of her towing towards him; Mesty ex- 
amined the Spanish vessel. 

‘Dat man-o’-war, Massa Easy— what de debbil we do for 
colour? must hoist someting.’ 

Mesty ran down below; he recollected that there was a 
very gay petticoat, which had been left by the old lady who 
was in the vessel when they captured her. It was of green 
silk with yellow and blue flowers, but very faded, having 
probably been in the Don’s family for a century. Mesty had 
found it under the mattress of one of the beds, and had put it 
into his bag, intending probably to cut it up into waistcoats. 
He soon appeared with this under his arm, made it fast to the 
peak halyards and hoisted it up. 

'Dere, massa, dat do very well— dat what you call all 
nation color. Everybody strike him flag to dat — men nebber 
pull it down,’ said Mesty, ‘anyhow. Now, den, ab hoist colour, 
we fire away — mind you only fire one gun at a time, and point 
um well, den ab time to load again.’ 

‘She’s hoisted her colours, sir,’ said Sawbridge, on board 
of the Harpy ; ‘but they do not show out clear, and it ’s im- 
possible to distinguish them ; but there ’s a gun.’ 

‘It ’s not at us, sir,’ said Gascoigne, the midshipman ; ‘it ’s 
at the Spanish vessel— I saw the shot fall ahead of her.’ 

‘It must be a privateer,’ said Captain Wilson ; ‘at all events, 
it is very, fortunate, for the corvette would otherwise have 
towed into Carthagena. Another gun, round and grape, and 
well pointed too ; she carries heavy metal, that craft : she must 
be a Maltese privateer.’ 

‘That’s as much as to say that she’s a pirate,’ replied Saw- 
bridge; ‘I can make nothing of her colours— they appear 
to me to be green — she must be a Turk. Another gun — and 
devilish well aimed, it has hit the boats.’ 

‘Yes, they are all in confusion : we will have her now, if we 
can only get a trifle of wind. That is a breeze coming up in 
the offing. Trim the sails, Mr. Sawbridge.’ 

The yards were squared, and the Harpy soon had steerage 
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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


way. In the meantime Jack and his few men had kept up a 
steady, well-directed, although slow, fire with their larboard 
guns upon the Spanish corvette; and two of her boats had 
been disabled. The Harpy brought the breeze up with her, 
and was soon within range ; she steered to cut off the corvette, 
firing only her bow-chasers. 

‘We ab her now,’ cried Mesty, ‘fire away, men — take good 
aim. Breeze come now ; one man go to helm. By de power, 
what dat ?’ 

The exclamation of Mesty was occasioned by a shot hulling 
the ship on the starboard side. Jack and he ran over, and 
perceived that three Spanish gunboats had just made their 
appearance round the point, and had attacked them. The 
fact was, that on the other side of the Cape was the port and 
town of Carthagena, and these gunboats had been sent out to 
the assistance of the corvette. The ship had now caught the 
breeze, fortunately for Jack, or he would probably have been 
taken into Carthagena; and the corvette, finding herself cut 
off by both the Harpy and Jack’s vessel, as soon as the breeze 
came up to her, put her head the other way, and tried to 
escape by running westward along the coast close in-shore. 
Another shot, and then another, pierced the hull of the ship, 
and wounded two of Jack’s men; but as the corvette had 
turned, and the Harpy followed her, of course Jack did the 
same, and in ten minutes he was clear of the gunboats, which 
did not venture to make sail and stand after him. The wind 
now freshened fast, and blew out the green petticoat, but the 
Harpy was exchanging broadsides with the corvette, and too 
busy to look after Jack’s ensign. The Spaniard defended 
himself well, and had the assistance of the batteries as he 
passed, but there was no anchorage until he had run many 
miles farther. About noon the wind died away, and at one 
o’clock it again fell nearly calm ; but the Harpy had neared 
her distance, and was now within three cables’ length of her 
antagonist, engaging her and a battery of four guns. Jack 
came up again, for he had the last of the breeze, and was 
about half a mile from the corvette when it fell calm. By the 
advice of Mesty he did not fire any more, as otherwise the 
Harpy would not obtain so much credit, and it was evident 
that the fire of the Spaniard slackened fast. At three o’clock 

131 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


the Spanish colours were hauled down, and the Harpy, sending 
a boat on board and taking possession, directed her whole fire 
upon the battery, which was soon silenced. 

The calm continued, and the Harpy was busy enough with 
the prize, shifting the prisoners and refitting both vessels, 
which had very much suffered in the sails and rigging. There 
was an occasional wonder on board the Harpy what that 
strange vessel might be which had turned the corvette and 
enabled them to capture her, but when people are all very 
busy, there is not much time for surmise. 

Jack’s crew, with himself, consisted but of eight, one of 
whom was a Spaniard, and two were wounded. It therefore 
left him but four, and he had also something to do, which was 
to assist his wounded men, and secure his guns. Moreover, 
Mesty did not think it prudent to leave the vessel a mile from 
the Harpy with only two on board ; besides, as Jack said, he 
had had no dinner, and was not quite sure that he should find 
anything to eat when he went into the midshipmen’s berth, he 
would therefore have some dinner cooked, and eat it before he 
went on board; in the meantime, they would try and close 
with her. Jack took things always very easy, and he said he 
should report himself at sunset. There were other reasons 
which made Jack in no very great hurry to go on board ; he 
wanted to have time to consider a little what he should say to 
excuse himself, and also how he should plead for the men. 
His natural correctness of feeling decided him, in the first 
place, to tell the whole truth, and in the next, his kind feelings 
determined him to tell only part of it. Jack need not have 
given himself this trouble, for as far as regarded himself, he 
had fourteen thousand good excuses in the bags which lay in 
the state-room ; and as for the men, after an action with the 
enemy, if they behave well, even mutiny is forgiven. At last 
Jack, who was tired with excitement and the hard work of the 
day, thought and thought until he fell fast asleep, and instead 
of waking at sunset did not wake till two hours afterwards ; 
and Mesty did not call him, because he was in no hurry him- 
self to go on board and hoil de kettle for de young gentle- 
men. 

When Jack woke up he was astonished to find that he had 
slept so long: he went on deck; it was dark and still calm, 

132 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


but he could easily perceive that the Harpy and corvette were 
still hove to, repairing damages. He ordered the men to 
lower down the small boat, and leaving Mesty in charge, with 
two oars he pulled to the Harpy. What with wounded men, 
with prisoners, and boats going and coming between the 
vessels, every one on board the Harpy was well employed, 
and in the dark Jack's little boat came alongside without 
notice. This should not have been the case, but it was, and 
there was some excuse for it. Jack ascended the side and 
pushed his way through the prisoners, who were being 
mustered to be victualled. He was wrapped up in one of the 
gregos, and many of the prisoners wore the same. 

Jack was amused at not being recognised : be slipped down 
the main ladder, and had to stoop under the hammocks of the 
wounded men, and was about to go aft to the captain’s cabin 
to report himself, when he heard young Gosset crying out, 
and the sound of the rope. ‘Hang me, if that brute Vigors 
an’t thrashing young Gosset,’ thought Jack. T daresay the 
poor fellow has had plenty of it since I have been away ; I ’ll 
save him this time at least.’ Jack, wrapped up in his grego, 
went to the window of the berth, looked in, and found it was 
as he expected. He cried out in an angry voice, 'Mr. Vigors, 
I'll thank you to leave Gosset alone.' At the sound of the 
voice Vigors turned round with his colt in his hand, saw Jack’s 
face at the window, and, impressed with the idea that the re- 
appearance was supernatural, uttered a yell and fell down in 
a fit— little Gosset also trembling in every limb, stared with 
his mouth open. Jack was satisfied, and immediately dis- 
appeared. He then went aft to the cabin, pushed by the 
servant, who was giving some orders from the captain to the 
officer on deck, and entering the cabin, where the captain was 
seated with two Spanish officers, took off his hat and said— 

‘Come on board. Captain Wilson.’ 

Captain Wilson did not fall down in a fit, but he jumped up 
and upset the glass before him. 

‘Merciful God! Mr. Easy, where did you come from?’ 

‘From that ship astern, sir,’ replied Jack. 

‘That ship astern! what is she?— where have you been so 
long ?’ 

‘It^s a long story, sir,’ replied Jack. 

133 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Captain Wilson extended his hand and shook Jack’s 
heartily. 

^At all events, I ’m delighted to see you, boy : now sit 
down and tell me your story in a few words ; we will have it 
in detail by and by.’ 

'If you please, sir,’ said Jack, 'we captured that ship with 
the cutter the night after we went away. I ’m not a first- 
rate navigator, and I was blown to the Zaffarine Islands, 
where I remained two months for want of hands : as soon as 
I procured them I made sail again— I have lost three men by 
sharks, and I have two wounded in to-day’s fight ; the ship 
mounts twelve guns, is half laden with lead and cotton prints, 
has fourteen thousand dollars in the cabin, and three shot- 
holes right through her— and the sooner you send some 
people on board of her the better.’ 

This was not very intelligible, but that there were fourteen 
thousand dollars, and that she required hands sent on board, 
was very satisfactorily explained. Captain Wilson rang the 
bell, sent for Mr. Asper, who started back at the sight of our 
hero— desired him to order Mr. Jolliffe to go on board with 
one of the cutters, send the wounded men on board, and take 
charge of the vessel, and then told Jack to accompany Mr. 
Jolliffe, and to give him every information; telling him that he 
would hear his story to-morrow, when they were not so very 
busy. 


CHAPTER XVII 

IN WHICH OUR HERO FINDS OUT THAT TRIGONOMETRY IS NOT 
ONLY NECESSARY TO NAVIGATION, BUT MAY BE REQUIRED IN 
SETTLING AFFAIRS OF HONOUR 

A S Captain Wilson truly said, he was too busy even to 
hear Jack’s story that night, for they were anxious to 
have both vessels ready to make sail as soon as a breeze should 
spring up, for the Spaniards had vessels of war at Carthagena, 
which was not ten miles off, and had known the result of the 
action : it was therefore necessary to change their position as 
soon as possible. Mr. Sawbridge was on board the prize, 

134 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


which was a corvette mounting two guns more than the Harpy 
and called the Cacafuogo. 

She had escaped from Cadiz, run through the straits in the 
night, and was three miles from Carthagena when she was 
captured, which she certainly never would have been but for 
Jack’s fortunately blundering against the Cape with his armed 
vessel, so that Captain Wilson and Mr. Sawbridge (both of 
whom were promoted, the first to the rank of post-captain, the 
second to that of commander) may be said to be indebted to 
Jack for their good fortune. The Harpy had lost nineteen 
men, killed and wounded, and the Spanish corvette forty- 
seven. Altogether, it was a very creditable affair. 

At two o’clock in the morning the vessels were ready, 
everything had been done that could be done in so short a 
time, and they stood under easy sail during the night for 
Gibraltar, the Nostra Senora del Carmen, under the charge of 
Jolliffe, keeping company. Jolliffe had the advantage over 
his shipmates of first hearing Jack’s adventures, with which 
he was much astonished as well as amused — even Captain 
Wilson was not more happy to see Jack than was the worthy 
master’s mate. About nine o’clock the Harpy hove to, and 
sent a boat on board for our hero and the men who had been 
so long with him in the prize, and then hoisted out the pinnace 
to fetch on board the dollars, which were of more importance. 
Jack, as he bade adieu to Jolliffe, took out of his pocket and 
presented him with the articles of war, which, as they had 
been so useful to him, he thought Jolliffe could not do with- 
out, and then went down the side; the men were already in 
the boat, casting imploring looks upon Jack, to raise feelings 
of compassion, and Mesty took his seat by our hero in a very 
sulky humour, probably because he did not like the idea of 
having again ‘to boil de kettle for de young gentlemen.’ 
Even Jack felt a little melancholy at resigning his command, 
and he looked back at the green petticoat, which blew out 
gracefully from the mast, for Jolliffe had determined that he 
would not haul down the colours under which Jack had 
fought so gallant an action. 

Jack’s narration, as may be imagined, occupied a large part 
of the forenoon ; and, although Jack did not attempt to deny 
that he had seen the recall signal of Mr. Sawbridge, yet, as 

135 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


his account went on, the captain became so interested that at 
the end of it he quite forgot to point out to Jack the impro- 
priety of not obeying orders. He gave Jack great credit for 
his conduct, and was also much pleased with that of Mesty. 
Jack took the opportunity of stating Mesty’s aversion to his 
present employment, and his recommendation was graciously 
received. Jack also succeeded in obtaining the pardon of the 
men, in consideration of their subsequent good behaviour, 
but notwithstanding this promise on the part of Captain 
Wilson, they were ordered to be put in irons for the present. 
However, Jack told Mesty, and Mesty told the men, that they 
would be released with a reprimand when they arrived at 
Gibraltar, so all that the men cared for was a fair wind. 

Captain Wilson informed Jack that after his joining the 
admiral he had been sent to Malta with the prizes, and that 
supposing the cutter to have been sunk, he had written to his 
father, acquainting him with his son’s death, at which our 
hero was much grieved, for he knew what sorrow it would 
occasion, particularly to his poor mother. ‘But,’ thought Jack, 
‘if she is unhappy for three months, she will be overjoyed for 
three more when she hears that I am alive, so it will be all 
square at the end of the six; and as soon as I arrive at 
Gibraltar I will write, and as the wind is fair, that will be 
to-morrow or next day.’ 

After a long conversation Jack was graciously dismissed. 
Captain Wilson being satisfied from what he had heard that 
Jack would turn out a very good officer, and had already 
forgotten all about equality and the rights of man ; but there 
Captain Wilson was mistaken— tares sown in infancy are not 
so soon rooted out. 

Jack went on deck as soon as the captain had dismissed 
him, and found fhe captain and officers of the Spanish 
corvette standing aft, looking very seriously at the Nostra 
Senora del Carmen. When they saw our hero, who Captain 
Wilson had told them was the young officer who had barred 
their entrance into Carthagena, they turned their eyes upon 
him not quite so graciously as they might have done. 

Jack, with his usual politeness, took off his hat to the 
Spanish captain, and, glad to have an opportunity of sporting 
his Spanish, expressed the usual wish that he might live a 

136 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


thousand years. The Spanish captain, who had reason to 
wish that Jack had gone to the devil at least twenty-four hours 
before, was equally complimentary, and then begged to be 
informed what the colours were that Jack had hoisted during 
the action. Jack replied that they were colours to which every 
Spanish gentleman considered it no disgrace to surrender, 
although always ready to engage, and frequently attempting 
to board. Upon which the Spanish captain was very much 
puzzled. Captain Wilson, who understood a little Spanish, 
then interrupted by observing — 

*By the bye, Mr. Easy, what colours did you hoist up? we 
could not make them out. I see Mr. Jolliffe still keeps them 
up at the peak.^ 

‘Yes, sir,’ replied Jack, rather puzzled what to call them, 
but at last he replied, ‘that it was the banner of equality and 
the rights of man.’ 

Captain Wilson frowned, and Jack perceiving that he 
was displeased, then told him the whole story, whereupon 
Captain Wilson laughed, and Jack then also explained, in 
Spanish, to the officers of the corvette, who replied, ‘that it 
was not the first time, and would not be the last, that men 
had got into a scrape through a petticoat.’ 

The Spanish captain complimented Jack on his Spanish, 
which was really very good ( for in two months, with nothing 
else in the world to do, he had made great progress), and 
asked him where he had learnt it. 

Jack replied, ‘at the Zaffarine Islands.’ 

‘Zaffiarine Isles,’ replied the Spanish captain, ‘they are not 
inhabited.’ 

‘Plenty of ground sharks,’ replied Jack. 

The Spanish captain thought our hero a very strange 
fellow, to fight under a green silk petticoat, and to take lessons 
in Spanish from the ground sharks. However, being quite as 
polite as Jack, he did not contradict him, but took a huge 
pinch of snuff, wishing from the bottom of his heart that the 
ground sharks had taken Jack before he had hoisted that con- 
founded green petticoat. 

However, Jack was in high favour with the captain, and all 
the ship’s company, with the exception of his four enemies — 
the master. Vigors, the boatswain, and the purser’s steward. 

137 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


As for Mr. Vigors, he had come to his senses again, and had 
put his colt in his chest until Jack should take another cruise. 
Little Cosset, at any insulting remark made by Vigors 
pointed to the window of the berth and grinned ; and the very 
recollection made Vigors turn pale, and awed him into silence. 

In two days they arrived at Gibraltar — Mr. Sawb ridge re- 
joined the ship, so did Mr. Jolliffe; they remained there a 
fortnight, during which Jack was permitted to* be continually 
on shore — Mr. Asper accompanied him, and Jack drew a 
heavy bill to prove to his father that he was still alive. Mr. 
Sawbridge made our hero relate to him all his adventures, and 
was so pleased with the conduct of Mesty that he appointed 
him to a situation which was particularly suited to him, — that 
of ship’s corporal. Mr. Sawbridge knew that it was an office 
of trust, and provided that he could find a man fit for it, he 
was very indifferent about his colour. Mesty walked and 
strutted about at least three inches taller than he was before. 
He was always clean, did his duty conscientiously, and seldom 
used his cane. 

'I think, Mr. Easy,’ said the first lieutenant, 'that as you 
are so particularly fond of taking a cruise,’ for Jack had told 
the whole truth, 'it might be as well that you improve your 
navigation.’ 

'I do think myself, sir,’ replied Jack with great modesty, 
'that I am not yet quite perfect.’ 

'Well, then, Mr. Jolliffe will teach you; he is the most 
competent in this ship: the sooner you ask him the better, 
and if you learn it as fast as you have Spanish, it will not give 
you much trouble.’ 

Jack thought the advice good: the next day he was very 
busy with his friend Jolliffe, and made the important dis- 
covery that two parallel lines continued to infinity would 
never meet. 

It must not be supposed that Captain Wilson and Mr. 
Sawbridge received their promotion instanter. Promotion is 
always attended with delay, as there is a certain routine in the 
service which must not be departed from. Captain Wilson 
had orders to return to Malta after his cruise. He therefore 
carried his own despatches away from England— from Malta 
the despatches had to be forwarded to Toulon to the admiral, 

138 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


and then the admiral had to send to England to the Admiralty, 
whose reply had to come out again. All this, with the delays 
arising from vessels not sailing immediately, occupied an 
interval of between five and six months — during which time 
there was no alteration in the officers and crew of his 
Majesty’s sloop Harpy. 

There had, however, been one alteration; the gunner, Mr. 
Minus, who had charge of the first cutter in the night action 
in which our hero was separated from his ship, carelessly 
loading his musket, had found himself minus his right hand, 
which, upon the musket going off as he rammed down, had 
gone off too. He was invalided and sent home during Jack’s 
absence, and another had been appointed, whose name was 
Tallboys. Mr. Tallboys was a stout dumpy man, with red 
face, and still redder hands ; he had red hair and red whiskers, 
and he had read a great deal— for Mr. Tallboys considered 
that the gunner was the most important personage in the ship. 
He had once been a captain’s clerk, and having distinguished 
himself very much in cutting-out service, had applied for and 
received his warrant as a gunner. He had studied the Art of 
Gunnery, a part of which he understood, but the remainder 
was above his comprehension : he continued, however, to read 
it as before, thinking that by constant reading he should 
understand it at last. He had gone through the work from the 
title-page to the finis at least forty times, and had just com- 
menced it over again. He never came on deck without the 
gunner’s vade mecum in his pocket, with his hand always 
upon it to refer to it in a moment. 

But Mr. Tallboys had, as we observed before, a great idea 
of the importance of a gunner, and, among other quali- 
fications, he considered it absolutely necessary that he should 
be a navigator. He had at least ten instances to bring forward 
of bloody actions, in which the captain and all the com- 
missioned officers had been killed or wounded, and the 
command of the ship had devolved upon the gunner. 

‘Now, sir,’ would he say, ‘if the gunner is no navigator, he 
is not fit to take charge of his Majesty’s ships. The boatswain 
and carpenter are merely practical men ; but the gunner, sir, 
is, or ought to be, scientific. Gunnery, sir, is a science — we 
have our own disparts and our lines of sight — our windage 

139 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


and our parabolas and projectile forces— and our point blank, 
and our reduction of powder upon a graduated scale. Now, 
sir, there ’s no excuse for a gunner not being a navigator ; for, 
knowing his duty as a gunner, he has the same mathematical 
tools to work with.^ Upon this principle Mr. Tallboys had 
added John Hamilton Moore to his library, and had advanced 
about as far into navigation as he had in gunnery, that is, to 
the threshold, where he stuck fast, with all his mathematical 
tools, which he did not know how to use. To do him justice, 
he studied for two or three hours every day, and it was not his 
fault if he did not advance — but his head was confused with 
technical terms ; he mixed all up together, and disparts, sines 
and cosines, parabolas, tangents, windage, seconds, lines of 
sight, logarithms, projectiles and traverse sailing, quadrature 
and Gunter’s scales, were all crowded together in a brain 
which had not capacity to receive the rule of three. ‘Too 
much learning,’ said Festus to the Apostle, ‘hath made thee 
mad.’ Mr. Tallboys had not wit enough to go mad, but his 
learning lay like lead upon his brain ; the more he read the 
less he understood, at the same time that he became more 
satisfied with his supposed acquirements, and could not speak 
but in ‘mathematical parables.’ 

‘I understand, Mr. Easy,’ said the gunner to him one day, 
after they had sailed for Malta, ‘that you have entered into 
the science of navigation— at your age it was high time.’ 

‘Yes,’ replied Jack, ‘I can raise a perpendicular, at all 
events, and box the compass.’ 

‘Yes, but jou have not yet arrived to the dispart of the 
compass.’ 

‘Not come to that yet,’ replied Jack. 

‘Are you aware that a ship sailing describes a parabola 
round the globe?’ 

‘Not come to that yet,’ replied Jack. 

‘And that any propelled body striking against another flies 
off at a tangent?’ 

‘Very likely,’ replied Jack; ‘that’s a sine that he don’t 
like it.’ 

‘You have not yet entered into acute trigonometry?’ 

‘Not come to that yet,’ replied Jack. 

‘That will require very sharp attention.’ 

140 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘I should think so/ replied Jack. 

'You will then find out how your parallels of longitude and 
latitude meet.’ 

'Two parallel lines, if continued to infinity, will never meet,’ 
replied Jack. 

'I beg your pardon,’ said the gunner. 

'I beg yours,’ said Jack. 

Whereupon Mr. Tallboys brought up a small map of the 
world, and showed Jack that all the parallels of latitude met at 
a point at the top and the bottom. 

'Parallel lines never meet,’ replied Jack, producing Hamilton 
Moore. 

Whereupon Jack and the gunner argued the point, until it 
was agreed to refer the case to Mr. Jollitfe, who asserted with 
a smile 'that those lines were parallels and not parallels.’ 

As both were right, both were satisfied. 

It was fortunate that Jack would argue in this instance: 
had he believed all the confused assertions of the gunner, he 
would have been as puzzled as the gunner himself. They 
never met without an argument and a reference, and as Jack 
was put right in the end, he only learnt the faster. By the 
time that he did know something about navigation he dis- 
covered that his antagonist knew nothing. Before they 
arrived at Malta Jack could fudge a day’s work. 

But at Malta Jack got into another scrape. Although Mr. 
Smallsole could not injure him, he was still Jack’s enemy; the 
more so as Jack had become very popular; Vigors also sub- 
mitted, planning revenge, but the parties in this instance 
were the boatswain and purser’s steward. Jack still continued 
his forecastle conversations with Mesty; and the boatswain- 
and purser’s steward, probably from their respective ill will 
towards our hero, had become great allies. Mr. Easthupp 
now put on his best jacket to walk the dog-watches with Mr. 
Biggs, and they took every opportunity to talk at our hero. 

‘It ’s my peculiar hopinion,’ said Mr. Easthupp one evening, 
pulling at the frill of his shirt, 'that a gentleman should behave 
as a gentleman, and that if a gentleman professes hopinions 
of hequality and such liberal sentiments, that he is bound as a 
gentleman to hact up to them.’ 

141 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘Very true, Mr. Easthupp, he is bound to act up to them ; 
and not because a person, who was a gentleman as well as 
himself, happens not to be on the quarter-deck, to insult him 
because he only has perfessed opinions like his own.^ 

Hereupon Mr. Biggs struck his rattan against the funnel, 
and looked at our hero. 

‘Yes,’ continued the purser’s steward, ‘I should like to see 
the fellow who would have done so on shore : however, the 
time will come, when I can hagain pull hon my plain coat, and 
then the hinsult shall be vashed hout in blood, Mr. Biggs.’ 

‘And I ’ll be cursed if I don’t some day teach a lesson to 
the blackguard who stole my trousers.’ 

‘Vas hall your money right, Mr. Biggs?’ inquired the 
purser’s steward. 

‘I did n’t count,’ replied the boatswain, magnificently. 

‘No — gentlemen are habove that,’ replied Easthupp; ‘but 
there are many light-fingered gentry habout. The quantity of 
vatches and harticles of value vich vere lost ven I valked 
Bond Street in former times is incredible.’ 

‘I can say this, at all events,’ replied the boatswain, ‘that 
I should be always ready to give satisfaction to any person 
beneath me in rank, after I had insulted him. I don’t 
stand upon my rank, although I don’t talk about equality, 
damme — no, nor consort with niggers.’ 

All this was too plain for our hero not to understand, so 
Jack walked up to the boatswain, and taking his hat off, with 
the utmost politeness, said to him — 

‘If I mistake not, Mr. Biggs, your conversation refers to 
me.’ 

‘Very likely it does,’ replied the boatswain. ‘Listeners hear 
no good of themselves.’ 

‘It happears that gentlemen can’t converse without being 
vatched,’ continued Mr. Easthupp, pulling up his shirt-collar. 

‘It is not the first time that you have thought proper to 
make very offensive remarks, Mr. Biggs ; and as you appear 
to consider yourself ill-treated in the affair of the trousers, 
for I tell you at once that it was I who brought them on board, 
I can only say,’ continued our hero, with a very polite bow, 
‘that I shall be most happy to give you satisfaction.’ 

‘I am your superior officer, Mr. Easy,’ replied the boat- 
swain. 


142 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘Yes, by the rules of the service ; but you just now asserted 
that you would waive your rank— indeed, I dispute it on this 
occasion, I am on the quarter-deck, and you are not.’ 

‘This is the gentleman whom you have insulted, Mr. Easy,’ 
replied the boatswain, pointing to the purser’s steward. 

‘Yes, Mr. Heasy, quite as good a gentleman as yourself, 
although I av ad misfortunes— I ham of as hold a family as 
hany in the country,’ replied Mr. Easthupp, now backed by 
the boatswain ; ‘many the year did I valk Bond Street, and I 
ave as good blood in my weins as you, Mr. Heasy, halthough 
I have been mis fortunate — I ’ve had hadmirals in my family.’ 

‘You have grossly insulted this gentleman,’ said Mr. Biggs, 
in continuation ; and notwithstanding all your talk of equality, 
you are afraid to give him satisfaction — you shelter yourself 
under your quarter-deck/ 

‘Mr. Biggs,’ replied our hero, who was now very wroth, ‘I 
shall go on shore directly we arrive at Malta. Let you, and 
this fellow, put on plain clothes, and I will meet you both— 
and then I ’ll show you whether I am afraid to give satis- 
faction.’ 

‘One at a time,’ said the boatswain. 

‘No, sir, not one at a time, but both at the same time— I 
will fight both or none. If you are my superior officer, you 
must descend,' replied Jack, with an ironical sneer, ‘to meet 
me, or I will not descend to meet that fellow, whom I believe 
to have been little better than a pickpocket.’ 

This accidental hit of Jack’s made the purser’s steward turn 
pale as a sheet, and then equally red. He raved and foamed 
amazingly, although he could not meet Jack’s indignant look, 
and then turned round again. 

‘Now, Mr. Biggs, is this to be understood, or do you 
shelter yourself under your forecastle?' 

‘I ’m no dodger,’ replied the boatswain, ‘and we will settle 
the affair at Malta.’ 

At which reply Jack returned to Mesty. 

‘Massa Easy, I look at um face, dat fello, Eastop, he no like 
it. I go shore wid you, see fair play, anyhow— suppose I can?’ 

Mr. Biggs having declared that he would fight, of course 
had to look out for a second, and he fixed upon Mr. Tallboys, 
the gunner, and requested him to be his friend. Mr. Tallboys, 
who had been latterly very much annoyed by Jack’s victories 

143 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


over him in the science of navigation, and therefore felt ill- 
will towards him, consented; but he was very much puzzled 
how to arrange that three were to fight at the same time, for 
he had no idea of there being two duels; so he went to his 
cabin and commenced reading. Jack, on the other hand, 
dared not say a word to Jolliffe on the< subject: indeed, there 
was no one in the ship to whom he could confide but 
Gascoigne ; he therefore went to him, and although Gascoigne 
thought it was excessively infra dig. of Jack to meet even the 
boatswain, as the challenge had been given there was no 
retracting : he therefore consented, like all midshipmen, 
anticipating fun, and quite thoughtless of the consequences. 

The second day after they had been anchored in Vallette 
harbour, the boatswain and gunner. Jack and Gascoigne, 
obtained permission to go on shore. Mr. Easthupp, the 
purser’s steward, dressed in his best blue coat with brass 
buttons and velvet collar, the very one in which he had been 
taken up when he had been vowing and protesting that he 
was a gentleman, at the very time that his hand was abstract- 
ing a pocket-book, went up on the quarter-deck, and requested 
the same indulgence, but Mr. Smallsole refused, as he re- 
quired him to return staves and hoops at the cooperage. 
Mesty also, much to his mortification, was not to be spared. 

This was awkward, but it was got over by proposing that 
the meeting should take place behind the cooperage at a 
certain hour, on which Mr. Easthupp might slip out and 
borrow a portion of the time appropriated to his duty, to heal 
the breach in his wounded honour. So the parties all went on 
shore, and put up at one of the small inns to make the 
necessary arrangements. 

Mr. Tallboys then addressed Mr. Gascoigne, taking him 
apart while the boatswain amused himself with a glass of 
grog, and our hero sat outside, teasing a monkey. 

‘Mr. Gascoigne,’ said the gunner, ‘I have been very much 
puzzled how this duel should be fought, but I have at last 
found it out. You see that there are three parties to fight; 
had there been two or four there would have been no 
difficulty, as the right line or square might guide us in that 
instance ; but we must arrange it upon the triangle in this.’ 

Gascoigne stared; he could not imagine what was coming. 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


^Are you aware, Mr. Gascoigne, of the properties of an 
equilateral triangle?’ 

'Yes,’ replied the midshipman, ‘It has three equal sides— 
but what the devil has that to do with the duel?’ 

‘Everything, Mr. Gascoigne,’ replied the gunner; ‘it has 
resolved the great difficulty : indeed, the duel between three 
can only be fought upon that principle. You observe,’ said 
the gunner, taking a piece of chalk out of his pocket, and 
making a triangle on the table, ‘in this figure we have three 
points, each equidistant from each other; and we have three 
combatants — so that, placing one at each point, it is all fair 
play for the three: Mr. Easy, for instance, stands here, the 
boatswain here, and the purser’s steward at the third corner. 
Now, if the distance is fairly measured, it will be all right.’ 

‘But then,’ replied Gascoigne, delighted at the idea, ‘how 
are they to fire?’ 

‘It certainly is not of much consequence, replied the 
gunner, ‘but still, as sailors, it appears to me that they should 
fire with the sun; that is, Mr. Easy fires at Mr. Biggs, Mr. 
Biggs fires at Mr. Easthupp, and Mr. Easthupp fires at Mr. 
Easy, so that you perceive that each party has his shot at one, 
and at the same time receives the fire of another.’ 

Gascoigne was in ecstasies at the novelty of the proceed-, 
ing, the more so as he perceived that Easy obtained every 
advantage by the arrangement. 

‘Upon my word, Mr. Tallboys, I give you great credit; 
you have a profound mathematical head, and I am delighted 
with your arrangement. Of course, in these affairs, the prin- 
ciples are bound to comply with the arrangements of the 
seconds, and I shall insist upon Mr. Easy consenting to your 
excellent and scientific proposal.’ 

Gascoigne went out, and pulling Jack away from the 
monkey, told him what the gunner had proposed, at which 
Jack laughed heartily. 

The gunner also explained it to the boatswain, who did not 
very well comprehend, but replied — 

‘I daresay it’s all right— shot for shot, and d— n all 
favours.’ 

The parties then repaired to the spot with two pairs of 
ship’s pistols, which Mr. Tallboys had smuggled on shore; 

145 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


and, as soon as they were on the ground, the gunner called 
Mr. Easthupp out of the cooperage. In the meantime, 
Gascoigne had been measuring an equilateral triangle of 
twelve paces — and marked it out. Mr. Tallboys, on his return 
with the purser’s steward, went over the ground, and finding 
that it was ‘equal angles subtended by equal sides,’ declared 
that it was all right. Easy took his station, the boatswain was 
put into his, and Mr. Easthupp, who was quite in a mystery, 
was led by the gunner to the third position. 

‘But, Mr. Tallboys,’ said the purser’s steward, ‘I don’t 
understand this. Mr. Easy will first fight Mr. Biggs, will he 
not?’ 

‘No,’ replied the gunner, ‘this is a duel of three. You will 
fire at Mr. Easy, Mr. Easy will fire at Mr. Biggs, and Mr. 
Biggs will fire at you. It is all arranged, Mr. Easthupp.’ 

‘But,’ said Mr. Easthupp, ‘I do not understand it. Why 
is Mr. Biggs to fire at me? I have no quarrel with Mr. 
Biggs.’ 

‘Because Mr. Easy fires at Mr. Biggs, and Mr. Biggs must 
have his shot as well.’ 

‘If you have been in the company of gentlemen, Mr. 
Easthupp,’ observed Gascoigne, ‘you must know something 
about duelling.’ 

‘Yes, yes, I ’ve kept the best company, Mr. Gascoigne, and 
I can give a gentleman satisfaction; but ’ 

‘Then, sir, if that is the case, you must know that your 
honour is in the hands of your second, and that no gentleman 
appeals.’ 

‘Yes, yes, I know that, Mr. Gascoigne, but still I ’ve no 
quarrel with Mr. Biggs, and therefore, Mr. Biggs, of course 
you will not aim at me.’ 

‘Why, you don’t think that I ’m going to be fired at for 
nothing,’ replied the boatswain ; ‘no, no, I ’ll have my shot 
anyhow.’ 

‘But at your friend, Mr. Biggs?’ 

‘All the same, I shall fire at somebody; shot for shot, and 
hit the luckiest.’ 

‘Vel, gentlemen, I purtest against these proceedings,’ replied 
Mr. Easthupp; ‘I came here to have satisfaction from Mr. 
Easy, and not to be fired at by Mr. Biggs.’ 

146 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘Don’t you have satisfaction when you fire at Mr. Easy?’ 
replied the gunner; ‘what more would you have?’ 

‘I purtest against Mr. Biggs firing at me.’ 

‘So you would have a shot without receiving one,’ cried 
Gascoigne : ‘the fact is, that this fellow ’s a confounded 
coward, and ought to be kicked into the cooperage again.’ 

At this affront Mr. Easthupp rallied, and accepted the 
pistol offered by the gunner. 

‘You ear those words, Mr. Biggs; pretty language to use 
to a gentleman. You shall ear from me, sir, as soon as the 
ship is paid off. I purtest no longer, Mr. Tallboys, death 
before dishonour— I ’m a gentleman, damme !’ 

At all events, the swell was not a very courageous gentle- 
man, for he trembled most exceedingly as he pointed his 
pistol. 

The gunner gave the word, as if he were exercising the 
great guns on board ship. 

‘Cock your locks !’— ‘Take good aim at the object!’ — 
‘Fire !’—‘ Stop your vents!’ 

The only one of the combatants who appeared to comply 
with the latter supplementary order was Mr. Easthupp, who 
clapped his hand to his trousers behind, gave a loud yell, and 
then dropped down, the bullet having passed clean through 
his seat of honour, from his having presented his broadside 
as a target to the boatswain as he faced towards our hero. 
Jack’s shot had also taken effect, having passed through 
both the boatswain’s cheeks, without further mischief than 
extracting two of his best upper double teeth, and forcing 
through the hole of the farther cheek the boatswain’s own 
quid of tobacco. As for Mr. Easthupp’s ball, as he was very 
unsettled, and shut his eyes before he fired, it had gone the 
Lord knows where. 

The purser’s steward lay on the ground and screamed— 
the boatswain spat his double teeth and two or three mouth- 
fuls of blood out, and then threw down his pistol in a rage. 

‘A pretty business, by God,’ sputtered he ; ‘he ’s put my 
pipe out. How the devil am I to pipe to dinner when I ’m 
ordered, all my wind ’scaping through the cheeks?’ 

In the meantime, the others had gone to the assistance of 
the purser’s steward, who continued his vociferations. They 

147 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

examined him, and considered a wound in that part not to be 
dangerous. 

‘Hold your confounded bawling,’ cried the gunner, ‘or 
you ’ll have the guard down here : you ’re not hurt.’ 

‘Han’t hi ?’ roared the steward : ‘oh, let me die, let me die ; 
don’t move me!’ 

‘Nonsense,’ cried the gunner, ‘you must get up and walk 
down to the boat; if you don’t we’ll leave you— hold your 
tongue, confound you. You won’t? then I ’ll give you some- 
thing to halloo for.’ 

Whereupon Mr. Tallboys commenced cuffing the poor 
wretch right and left, who received so many swinging boxes 
of the ear, that he was soon reduced to merely pitiful plaints 
of ‘Oh dear!— such inhumanity— I purtest— oh dear! must I 
get up? I can’t, indeed.’ 

‘I do not think he can move, Mr. Tallboys,’ said Gascoigne ; 
‘I should think the best plan would be to call up two of the 
men from the cooperage, and let them take him at once to the 
hospital.’ 

The gunner went down to the cooperage to call the men. 
Mr. Biggs, who had bound up his face as if he had a tooth- 
ache, for the bleeding had been very slight, came up to the 
purser’s steward. 

‘What the hell are you making such a howling about? 
Look at me, with two shot-holes through my figure-head, 
while you have only got one in your stern : I wish I could 
change with you, by heavens, for I could use my whistle then 
— now if I attempt to pipe, there will be such a wasteful 
expenditure of his Majesty’s stores of wind, that I never shall 
get out a note. A wicked shot of yours, Mr. Easy.’ 

H really am very sorry,’ replied Jack, with a polite bow, 
‘and I beg to offer my best apology.’ 

During this conversation, the purser’s steward felt very 
faint, and thought he was going to die. 

‘Oh dear! oh dear! what a fool I was; I never was a 
gentleman — only a swell: I shall die; I never will pick a 
pocket again — never — never — God forgive me!’ 

Why, confound the fellow,’ cried Gascoigne, ‘so you were 
a pickpocket, were you?' 

‘I never will again,’ replied the fellow in a faint voice; 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘Hi ’ll hamend and lead a good life— -a drop of water — oh ! 
lagged at last!’ 

Then the poor wretch fainted away: and Mr. Tallboys 
coming up with the men, he was taken on their shoulders and 
walked off to the hospital, attended by the gunner and also the 
boatswain, who thought he might as well have a little medical 
advice before he went on board. 

‘Well, Easy,’ said Gascoigne, collecting the pistols and 
tying them up in his handkerchief, ‘I ’ll be shot, but we ’re in a 
pretty scrape ; there ’s no hushing this up. I ’ll be hanged if 
I care, it ’s the best piece of fun I ever met with.’ And at the 
remembrance of it Gascoigne laughed till the tears ran down 
his cheeks. Jack’s mirth was not quite so excessive, as he 
was afraid that the purser’s steward was severely hurt, and 
expressed his fears. 

‘At all events, you did not hit him,’ replied Gascoigne; 
‘all you have to answer for is the boatswain’s mug, — I think 
you ’ve stopped his jaw for the future.’ 

‘I ’m afraid that our leave will be stopped for the future,’ 
replied Jack. 

‘That we may take our oaths of,’ replied Gascoigne. 

‘Then look you, Ned,’ said Easy, ‘P’ve lots of dollars; we 
may as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb, as the saying 
is ; I vote that we do not go on board.’ 

‘Sawbridge will send and fetch us,’ replied Ned; ‘but he 
must find us first.’ 

‘That won’t take long, for the soldiers will soon have our 
description and rout us out— we shall be pinned in a couple of 
days.’ 

‘Confound it, and they say that the ship is to be hove down, 
and that we shall be here six weeks at least, cooped up on 
board in a broiling sun, and nothing to do but to watch the 
pilot fish playing round the rudder, and munch bad apricots. 
I won’t go on board; look ye. Jack,’ said Gascoigne, ‘have 
you plenty of money?’ 

‘I have twenty doubloons, besides dollars,’ replied Jack. 

‘Well, then, we will pretend to be so much alarmed at the 
result of this duel, that we dare not show ourselves, lest we 
should be hung. I will write a note and send it to Jolliffe, to 
say that we have hid ourselves until the affair is blown over, 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


and beg him to intercede with the captain and first lieutenant. 
I will tell him all the particulars and refer to the gunner for 
the truth of it ; and then I know that although we should be 
punished, they will only laugh ; but I will pretend that 
Easthupp is killed, and we are frightened out of our lives. 
That will be it ; and then let 's get on board one of the spero- 
nares which come with fruit from Sicily, sail in the night for 
Palermo, and then we ’ll have a cruise for a fortnight, and 
when the money is all gone we ’ll come back.’ 

‘That ’s a capital idea, Ned, and the sooner we do it the 
better. I will write to the captain, begging him to get me off 
from being hung, and telling him where we have fled to, and 
that letter shall be given after we have sailed.’ 

They were two very nice lads — our hero and Gascoigne. 


CHAPTER XVIII 

IN WHICH OUR HERO SETS OFF ON ANOTHER CRUISE, IN WHICH 
HE IS NOT BLOWN OFF SHORE 

ASCOIGNE and our hero were neither of them in 
uniform, and they hastened to Nix Mangare stairs, 
where they soon picked up the padrone of a speronare. They 
went with him into a wine shop, and with the assistance of a 
little English from a Maltese boy, whose shirt hung out of 
his trousers, they made a bargain, by which it was agreed 
that for the consideration of two doubloons he would sail that 
evening and land them at Gergenti or some other town in 
Sicily, providing them with something to eat and gregos to 
sleep upon. 

Our two midshipmen then went back to the tavern from 
which they had set off to fight the duel, and ordering a good 
dinner to be served in a back room, they amused themselves 
with killing flies, as they talked over the events of the day, and 
waited for their dinner. 

As Mr. Tallboys did not himself think proper to go on 
board till the evening, and Mr. Biggs also wished it to be 
dark before he went up the ship’s side, the events of the duel 

150 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


did not transpire till the next morning. Even then it was 
not known from the boatswain or gunner, but by a hospital 
mate coming on board to inform the surgeon that there was 
one of their men wounded under their charge, but that he 
was doing very well. 

Mr. Biggs had ascended the side with his face bound up. 

‘Confound that Jack Easy,’ said he; ‘I have only been on 
leave twice since I sailed from Portsmouth — once I am obliged 
to come up the side without my trousers, and show my bare 
stem to the whole ship’s company, and now I am coming up, 
and dare not show my figure-head.’ He reported himself to 
the officer of the watch, and hasting to his cabin, went to bed, 
and lay the whole night awake from pain, thinking what 
excuse he could possibly make for not coming on deck next 
morning to his duty. 

He was, however, saved this trouble, for Mr. Jolliffe 
brought the letter of Gascoigne up to Mr. Sawbridge, and the 
captain had received that of our hero. 

Captain Wilson came on board and found that Mr. Saw- 
bridge could communicate all the particulars of which he 
had not been acquainted by Jack; and after they had read 
over Gascoigne’s letter in the cabin and interrogated Mr. 
Tallboys, who was sent down under an arrest, they gave free 
vent to their mirth. 

‘Upon my soul, there ’s no end to Mr. Easy’s adventures,’ 
said the captain. ‘I could laugh at the duel, for, after all, it 
is nothing — and he would have been let off with a severe 
reprimand ; but the foolish boys have set off in a speronare to 
Sicily, and how the devil are we to get them back again ?’ 

‘They ’ll come back, sir,’ replied Sawbridge, ‘when all their 
money ’s gone.’ 

‘Yes, if they do not get into any more scrapes— that young 
scamp Gascoigne is as bad as Easy, and now they are together 
there ’s no saying what may happen. I dine at the Governor’s 
to-day ; how he will laugh when I tell him of this new way of 
fighting a duel!’ 

‘Yes, sir, it is just the thing that will tickle old Tom.’ 

‘We must find out if they have got off the island, Saw- 
bridge, which may not be the case.’ 

But it was the case ; Jack and Gascoigne had eaten a very 

151 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


good dinner, sent for the monkey to amuse them till it was 
dark, and there had waited till the padrone came to them. 

‘What shall we do with the pistols. Easy?' 

‘Take them with us, and load them before we go— we 
may want them: who knows but there may be a mutiny on 
board of the speronare?— I wish we had Mesty with us.' 

They loaded the pistols, took a pair each and put them 
in their waists, concealed under their clothes; divided the 
ammunition between them, and soon afterwards the padrone 
came to tell them all was ready. 

Whereupon Messrs. Gascoigne and Easy paid their bill 
and rose to depart, but the padrone informed them that he 
should like to see the colour of their money before they went 
on board. Jack, very indignant at the insinuation that he had 
not sufficient cash, pulled out a handful of doubloons, and 
tossing two to the padrone, asked him if he was satisfied. 

The padrone untied his sash, put in the money, and with 
many thanks and protestations of service, begged our young 
gentlemen to accompany him; they did so, and in a few 
minutes were clear of Nix Mangare stairs, and passing close 
to his Majesty's ship Harpy, were soon out of the harbour of 
Vallette. 

Of all the varieties of vessels which float upon the wave, 
there is not, perhaps, one that bounds over the water so grace- 
fully or so lightly as a speronare, or any one so picturesque 
and beautiful to the eye of those who watch its progress. 

The night was clear, and the stars shone out brilliantly 
as the light craft skimmed over the water, and a fragment of 
a descending and waning moon threw its soft beams upon the 
snow-white sail. The vessel, which had no deck, was full of 
baskets, which had contained grapes and various fruits 
brought from the ancient granary of Rome, still as fertile 
and as luxuriant as ever. The crew consisted of the padrone, 
two men and a boy; the three latter, with their gregos, or 
night greatcoats with hoods, sitting forward before the sail, 
with their eyes fixed on the land as they flew past point after 
point, thinking perhaps of their wives, or perhaps of their 
sweethearts, or perhaps not thinking at all. 

The padrone remained aft at the helm, offering every 
politeness to our two young gentlemen, who only wished to 

152 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


be left alone. At last they requested the padrone to give them 
gregos to lie down upon, as they wished to go to sleep. He 
called the boy to take the helm, procured them all they re- 
quired, and then went forward. And our two midshipmen 
lay down looking at the stars above them, for some minutes, 
without exchanging a word. At last Jack commenced. 

‘I have been thinking, Gascoigne, that this is very delight- 
ful. My heart bounds with the vessel, and it almost appears 
to me as if the vessel herself was rejoicing in her liberty. 
Here she is capering over the waves instead of being tied by 
the nose with a cable and anchor.’ 

‘That ’s a touch of the sentimental, Jack,’ replied Gascoigne ; 
‘but she is no more free than she was when at anchor, for she 
now is forced to act in obedience to her steersman, and go just 
where he pleases. You may just as well say that a horse, if 
taken out of the stables, is free, with the curb and his rider on 
his back.’ 

‘That’s a touch of the rational, Ned, which destroys the 
illusion. Never mind, we are free, at all events. What 
machines we are on board of a man-of-war! We walk, talk, 
eat, drink, sleep, and get up, just like clockwork; we are 
wound up to go the twenty-four hours, and then wound up 
again ; just like old Smallsole does the chronometers.’ 

‘Very true. Jack ; but it does not appear to me that, hitherto, 
you have kept very good time: you require a little more 
regulating,’ said Gascoigne. 

‘How can you expect any piece of machinery to go well, 
so damnably knocked about as a midshipman is ?’ replied our 
hero. 

‘Very true. Jack; but sometimes you don’t keep any time, 
for you don’t keep any watch. Mr. Asper don’t wind you up. 
You don’t go at all.’ 

‘No; because he allows me to go down; but still I do go, 
Ned.’ 

‘Yes, to your hammock— but it ’s no go with old Smallsole, 
if I want a bit of caulk. But, Jack, what do you say— shall 
we keep watch to-night?’ 

‘Why, to tell you the truth, I have been thinking the same 
thing— I don’t much like the looks of the padrone— he squints.’ 

‘That ’s no proof of anything. Jack, except that his eyes are 

153 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


not straight : but if you do not like the look of him, I can 
tell you that he very much liked the look of your doubloons — 
I saw him start and his eyes twinkled, and I thought at the 
time it was a pity you had not paid him in dollars.’ 

'It was very foolish in me; but at all events he has not 
seen all.’ 

'He saw quite enough,’ said Ned. 

'Very true, but you should have let him see the pistols, and 
not have let him see the doubloons.’ 

'Well, if he wishes to take what he has seen, he shall receive 
what he has not seen — why, there are only four of them.’ 

'Oh, I have no fear of them, only it may be as well to sleep 
with one eye open.’ 

'When shall we make the land?’ 

'To-morrow evening with this wind, and it appears to be 
steady. Suppose we keep watch and watch, and have our 
pistols out ready, with the greatcoats just turned over them, 
to keep them out of sight?’ 

'Agreed — it ’s about twelve o’clock now — who shall keep 
the middle watch?’ 

'I will, Jack, if you like it.’ 

'Well, then, mind you kick me hard, for I sleep devilish 
sound. Good-night, and keep a sharp look-out.’ 

Jack was fast asleep in less than ten minutes; and Gas- 
coigne, with his pistols lying by him all ready for each hand, 
sat up at the bottom of the boat. 

There certainly is a pveculiar providence in favour of mid- 
shipmen compared with the rest of mankind ; they have more 
lives than a cat— always in the greatest danger, but always 
escaping from it. 

The padrone of the vessel had been captivated with the 
doubloons which Jack had so foolishly exposed to his view, 
and he had, moreover, resolved to obtain them. At the very 
time that our two lads were conversing aft, the padrone was 
talking the matter over with his two men forward, and it was 
agreed that they should murder, rifle, and then throw them 
overboard. 

About two o’clock in the morning, the padrone came aft to 
see if they were asleep, but found Gascoigne watching. He 
returned aft again and again, but found the young man still 

154 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


sitting up. Tired of waiting, anxious to possess the money, 
and not supposing that the lads were armed, he went once 
more forward and spoke to the men. Gascoigne had watched 
his motions ; he thought it singular, that with three men in 
the vessel, the helm should be confided to the boy — and at 
last he saw them draw their knives. He pushed our hero, who 
woke immediately. Gascoigne put his hand over Jack’s 
mouth, that he might not speak, and then whispered his 
suspicions. Jack seized his pistols — they both cocked them 
without noise, and then waited in silence. Jack still lying 
down while Gascoigne continued to sit up at the bottom of 
the boat. At last Gascoigne saw the three men coming aft — 
he dropped one of his pistols for a second to give Jack a 
squeeze of the hand, which was returned, and as Gascoigne 
watched them making their way through the piles of empty 
baskets he leaned back as if he was slumbering. The pa- 
drone, followed by the two men, was at last aft, — they paused 
a moment before they stepped over the strengthening plank, 
which ran from side to side of the boat between them and 
the midshipmen, and as neither of them stirred they imagined 
that both were asleep— advanced and raised their knives, 
when Gascoigne and Jack, almost at the same moment, each 
discharged their pistols into the breast of the padrone and 
one of the men who was with him in advance, who both fell 
with the send aft of the boat, so as to encumber the mid- 
shipmen with the weight of their bodies. The third man 
started back. Jack, who could not rise, from the padrone 
lying across his legs, took a steady aim with his second 
pistol and the third man fell. The boy at the helm, who, 
it appeared, either was aware of what was to be done, or, 
seeing the men advance with their knives, had acted upon 
what he saw, also drew his knife and struck at Gascoigne 
from behind; the knife fortunately, after slightly wounding 
Gascoigne on the shoulder, had shut on the boy’s hand— Gas- 
coigne sprang up with his other pistol, the boy started 
back at the sight of it, lost his balance and fell overboard. 

Our two midshipmen took a few seconds to breathe. 

T say. Jack,’ said Gascoigne at last, ‘did you ever ’ 

‘No, I never ’ replied Jack. 

‘What’s to be done now ?’ 


155 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘Why, as we Ve got possession, Ned, we had better put a 
man at the helm— for the speronare is having it all her own 
way.’ 

‘Very true,’ replied Gascoigne; ‘and as I can steer better 
than you, I suppose it must be me.’ 

Gascoigne went to the helm, brought the boat up to the 
wind, and then they resumed their conversation. 

‘That rascal of a boy gave me a devil of a lick on the 
shoulder ; I don’t know whether he has hurt me — at all events 
it ’s my left shoulder, so I can steer just as well. I wonder 
whether the fellows are dead.’ 

‘The padrone is, at all events,’ replied Jack. ‘It was as 
much as I could do to get my legs from under him— but 
we ’ll wait till daylight before we see to that — in the mean- 
time, I ’ll load the pistols again.’ 

‘The day is breaking now — it will be light in half-an-hour 
or less. What a devil of a spree, J ack !’ 

‘Yes, but how can one help it? we ran away because two 
men are wounded— and now we are obliged to kill four in 
self-defence.’ 

‘Yes, but that is not the end of it ; when we get to Sicily 
what are we to do? we shall be imprisoned by the authorities 
— perhaps hung.’ 

‘We ’ll argue that point with them,’ replied Jack. 

‘We had better argue the point between ourselves. Jack, 
and see what will be the best plan to get out of our scrape.’ 

‘I think that we just have got out of it — never fear but 
we ’ll get out of the next. Do you know, Gascoigne, it appears 
to me very odd, but I can do nothing but there ’s a bobbery at 
the bottom of it.’ 

‘You certainly have a great talent that way. Jack. Don’t 
I hear one of these poor fellows groan?’ 

‘I should think that not impossible.’ 

‘What shall we do with them?’ 

‘We will argue that point, Ned — we must either keep their 
bodies or we must throw them overboard. Either tell the 
whole story or say nothing about it.’ 

‘That ’s very evident ; in short, we must do something, for 
your argument goes no further. But now let us take up one 
of your propositions. Well, then, suppose we keep the bodies 



As neither of them stirred they imagined 
that both were asleep. 




MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


on board, run into a seaport, go to the authorities state 
all the facts, what then ? 

‘We shall prove, beyond all doubt, that we have killed 
three men, if not four; but we shall not prove that we were 
obliged so to do. Jack. And then we are heretics — we shall 
be put in prison till they are satisfied of our innocence, which 
we never can prove, and there we shall remain until we have 
written to Malta, and a man-of-war comes to redeem us, if we 
are not stabbed, or something else, in the meantime.’ 

‘That will not be a very pleasant cruise,’ replied Jack. 
‘Now let ’s argue the point on the other side.’ 

‘There is some difficulty there — suppose we throw their 
bodies overboard, toss the baskets after them, wash the boat 
clean and make for the first port. We may chance to hit 
upon the very spot from which they sailed, and then there will 
be a paek of wives, and children, and a populace with knives, 
asking us what has become of the men of the boat.’ 

T don’t much like the idea of that,’ said Jack. 

‘And if we don’t have such bad luck, still we shall be 
interrogated as to who we are, and how we were adrift by 
ourselves.’ 

‘There will be a difficulty about that again— we must swear 
that it is a party of pleasure, and thajt we are gentlemen 
yachting.’ 

‘Without a crew or provisions— yachts don’t sail with a 
clean-swept hold, or gentlemen without a spare shirt — we 
have nothing but two gallons of water and two pairs of 
pistols.’ 

‘I have it,’ said Jack — ‘we are two young gentlemen in 
our own boat who went out to Gozo with pistols to shoot sea- 
mews, were caught in a gale, and blown down to Sicily— that 
will excite interest.’ 

‘That ’s the best idea yet, as it will account for our having 
nothing in the boat. Well then, at all events, we will get rid 
of the bodies; but suppose they are not dead — we cannot 
throw them overboard alive, that will be murder.’ 

‘Very true,’ replied Jack, ‘then we must shoot them first 
and toss them overboard afterwards.’ 

‘Upon my soul. Easy, you are an odd fellow — ^however go 
and examine the men and we ’ll decide that point by and by— 

157 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


you had better keep your pistol feady cocked, for they may 
be shamming.’ 

‘Devil a bit of sham here, anyhovir,’ replied Jack, pulling at 
the body of the padrone, ‘and as for this fellow you shot, you 
might put your fist into his chest. Now for the third,’ con- 
tinued Jack, stepping over the strengthening piece— ‘he ’s all 
among the baskets. I say, my cock, are you dead?’ and 
Jack enforced his question with a kick in the ribs. The man 
groaned. ‘That’s unlucky, Gascoigne, but however I ’ll soon 
settle him,’ said Jack, pointing his pistol. 

‘Stop, Jack,’ cried Gascoigne, 'it really will be murder.’ 

‘No such thing, Ned ; I ’ll just blow his brains out, and then 
I ’ll come aft and argue the point with you.’ 

‘Now do oblige me by coming aft and arguing the point 
first. Do, Jack, I beg of you— I entreat you.’ 

‘With all my heart,’ replied Jack, resuming his seat by 
Gascoigne; ‘I assert, that in this instance killing ’s no murder. 
You will observe, Ned, that by the laws of society, any one 
who attempts the life of another has forfeited his own ; at the 
same time, as it is necessary that the fact should be clearly 
proved and justice be duly administered, the parties are tried, 
convicted, and then are sentenced to the punishment.’ 

‘I grant all that.’ 

‘In this instance the attempt has been ciearly proved; we 
are the witnesses and are the judges and jury, and society in 
general, for the best of all possible reasons, because there is 
nobody else. These men’s lives being therefore forfeited ^to 
society, belong to us ; and it does not follow because they were 
not all killed in the attempt, that therefore they are not now to 
be brought out for punishment. And as there is no common 
hangman here, we, of course, must do this duty as well as 
every other. I have now clearly proved that I am justified in 
what I am about to do. But the argument does not stop 
there— self-preservation is the first law of nature, and if we 
do not get rid of this man, what is the consequence?— that 
we shall have to account for his being wounded, and then, 
instead of judges, we shall immediately be placed in the 
position of culprits and have to defend ourselves without 
witnesses. We therefore risk our lives from a misplaced 
lenity towards a wretch unworthy to live.’ 

158 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


'Your last argument is strong, Easy, but I cannot consent 
to your doing what may occasion you uneasiness hereafter 
when you think of it.^ 

'Pooh ! nonsense — I ’m a philosopher.’ 

'Of what school. Jack? Oh, I presume,*you are a disciple 
of Mesty’s. I do not mean to say that you are wrong, but 
still hear my proposition. Let us lower down the sail, and 
then I can leave the helm to assist you. We will clear the 
vessel of everything except the man who is still alive. At all 
events, we may wait a little, and if at last there is no help for 
it, I will then agree with you to launch him overboard, even if 
he is not quite dead.’ 

'Agreed ; even by your own making out, it will be no great 
sin. He is half dead already — I only do half the work of 
tossing him over, so it will be only quarter murder on my 
part, and he would have shown no quarter on his.’ Here 
Jack left off arguing and punning, and went forward and 
lowered down the sail. 'I ’ve half a mind to take my doub- 
loons back,’ said Jack, as they launched over the body of the 
padrone, 'but he may have them— I wonder whether they ’ll 
ever turn up again.’ 

'Not in our time. Jack,’ replied Gascoigne. 

The other body, and all the basket lumber, etc., were then 
tossed over, and the boat was cleared of all but the man who 
was not yet dead. 

'Now let’s examine the fellow, and see if he has any chance 
of recovery,’ said Gascoigne. 

The man lay on his side, Gascoigne turned him over and 
found that he was dead. 

'Over with him, quick,’ said Jack, 'before he comes to 
life again.’ 

The body disappeared under the wave — they again hoisted 
the sail, Gascoigne took the helm, and our hero proceeded to 
draw water and wash away the stains of blood ; he then cleared 
the boat of vine-leaves and rubbish, with which it was strewed, 
swept it clean fore and aft, and resumed his seat by his 
comrade. 

'There,’ said Jack, 'now we ’ve swept the decks, we may 
pipe to dinner. I wonder whether there is anything to eat 
in the locker.’ 


159 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Jack opened it, and found some bread, garlic, sausages, 
a bottle of aguardiente and a jar of wine. 

‘So the padrone did keep his promise, after all.’ 

‘Yes, and had you not tempted him with the sight of so 
much gold, might now have been alive.’ 

‘To which I reply, that if you had not advised our going 
off in a speronare, he would now have been alive.’ 

‘And if you had not fought a duel, I should not have given 
the advice.’ 

‘And if the boatswain had not been obliged to come on 
board without his trousers at Gibraltar, I should not have 
fought a duel.’ 

‘And if you had not joined the ship, the boatswain would 
have had his trousers on.’ 

‘And if my father had not been a philosopher, I should 
not have gone to sea; so that it is all my father’s fault, and 
he has killed four.men off the coast of Sicily, without knowing 
it— cause and effect. After all, there ’s nothing like argu- 
ment ; so having settled that point, let us go to dinner.’ 

Having finished their meal. Jack went forward and 
observed the land ahead; they steered the same course for 
three or four hours. 

‘We must haul our wind more,’ said Gascoigne; ‘it will 
not do to put into any small town : we have now to choose 
whether we shall land on the coast and sink the speronare, 
or land at some large town.’ 

‘We must argue that point,’ replied Jack. 

‘In the meantime, do you take the helm, for my arm is 
quite tired,’ replied Gascoigne : ‘you can steer well enough— 
by the bye, I may as well look at my shoulder, for it is quite 
stiff.’ Gascoigne pulled off his coat, and found his shirt 
bloody and sticking to the wound, which, as we before 
observed, was slight. He again took the helm, while Jack 
washed it clean and then bathed it with aguardiente. 

‘Now take the helm again,’ said Gascoigne ; ‘I’m on the 
sick list.’ 

‘And as surgeon— I ’m an idler,’ replied Jack; ‘but what 
shall we do?’ continued he; ‘abandon the speronare at night 
and sink her, or run in for a town?’ 

‘We shall fall in with plenty of boats and vessels if we 
coast it up to Palermo, and they may overhaul us.’ 

i6o 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘We shall fall in with plenty of people if we go on shore, 
and they will overhaul us.^ 

‘Do you know, Jack, that I wish we were back and along- 
side of the Harpy; I ’ve had cruising enough.’ 

‘My cruises are so unfortunate,’ replied Jack; ‘they are 
too full of adventure ; but then, I have never yet had a cruise 
on shore. Now, if we could only get to Palermo, we should 
be out of all our difficulties.’ 

‘The breeze freshens. Jack,’ replied Gascoigne; ‘and it 
begins to look very dirty to windward. I think we shall have 
a gale.’ 

‘Pleasant — I know what it is to be short-handed in a gale ; 
however, there ’s one comfort, we shall not be blown off shore 
this time.’ 

‘No, but we may be wrecked on a lee shore. She cannot 
carry her whole sail. Easy, we must lower it down, and take 
in a reef ; the sooner the better, for it will be dark in an hour. 
Go forward and lower it down, and then I ’ll help you.’ 

Jack did so, but the sail went into the water, and he could 
not drag it in. 

‘Avast heaving,’ said Gascoigne, ‘till I throw her up and 
take the wind out of it.’ 

This was done; they reefed the sail but could not hoist 
it up; if Gascoigne left the helm to help Jack, the sail filled; 
if he went to the helm and took the wind out of the sail. Jack 
was not strong enough to hoist it. The wind increased 
rapidly, and the sea got up, the sun went down, and with the 
sail half hoisted, they could not keep to the wind, but were 
obliged to run right for the land. The speronare flew, rising 
on the crest of the waves with half her keel clear of the water : 
the moon was already up, and gave them light enough to 
perceive that they were not five miles from the coast, which 
was lined with foam. 

‘At all events, they can’t accuse us of running away with 
the boat,’ observed Jack ; ‘for she ’s running away with us.’ 

‘Yes,’ replied Gascoigne, dragging at the tiller with all his 
strength ; ‘she has taken the bit between her teeth.’ 

‘I wouldn’t care if I had a bit between mine,’ replied Jack ; 
‘for I feel devilish hungry again. What do you say, Ned?’ 

‘With all my heart,’ replied Gascoigne; ‘but, do you know. 
Easy, it may be the last meal we ever make.’ 

i6i 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Then I vote it 's a good one— but why so, Ned?’ 

‘In half-an-hour, or thereabouts, we shall be on shore.’ 

‘Well, that ’s where we want to go.’ 

‘Yes, but the sea runs high, and the boat may be dashed 
to pieces on the rocks.’ 

‘Then we shall be asked no questions about her or the 
men.’ 

‘Very true, but a lee shore is no joke; we may be knocked 
to pieces, as well as the boat — even swimming may not help 
us. If we could find a cove or sandy beach, we might, 
perhaps, manage to get on shore.’ 

‘Well,’ replied Jack, ‘I have not been long at sea, and, of 
course, cannot know much about these things. I have been 
blown off shore, but I never have been blown on. It may be 
as you say, but I do not see the great danger— let ’s run her 
right up on the beach at once.’ 

‘That’s what I shall try to do,’ replied Gascoigne, who 
had been four years at sea, and knew very well what he was 
about. 

Jack handed him a huge piece of bread and sausage. 

‘Thank ye, I cannot eat.’ 

‘I can,’ replied Jack, with his mouth full. 

Jack ate while Gascoigne steered, and the rapidity with 
which the speronare rushed to the beach was almost frightful. 
She darted like an arrow from wave to wave, and appeared as 
if mocking their attempts as they curled their summits almost 
over her narrow stern. They were within a mile of the 
beach, when Jack, who had finished his supper, and was 
looking at the foam boiling on the coast, exclaimed, 

‘That ’s very fine — very beautiful, upon my sou! 1’ 

‘He cares for nothing,’ thought Gascoigne; ‘he appears to 
have no idea of danger.’ 

‘Now, my dear fellow,’ said Gascoigne, ‘in a few minutes 
we shall be on the rocks. I must continue at the helm, for 
the higher she is forced up the better chance for us ; but we 
may not meet again, so if we do not, good-bye, and God bless 
you.’ 

‘Gascoigne,’ said Jack, ‘you are hurt and I am not; your 
shoulder is stiff, and you can hardly move your left arm. 
Now I can steer for the rocks as well as you. Do you go to 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


the bow, and there you will have a better chance. By the bye,’ 
continued he, picking up his pistols and sticking them into 
his waist, 'I won’t leave them, they ’ve served us too good a 
turn already. Gascoigne, give me the helm.’ 

'No, no. Easy.’ 

'I say yes,’ replied Jack, in a loud, authoritative tone, 'and 
what ’s more, I will be obeyed, Gascoigne. I have nerve, if I 
haven’t knowledge, and at all events I can steer for the beach. 
I tell you, give me the helm. Well, then, if you won’t,— I 
must take it.’ 

Easy wrested the tiller from Gascoigne’s hand, and gave 
him a shove forward. 

'Now do you look out ahead, and tell me how to steer.’ 

Whatever may have been Gascoigne’s feelings at this 
behaviour of our hero’s, it immediately occurred to him that 
he could not do better than to run the speronare to the safest 
point, and that therefore he was probably more advantageously 
employed than if he were at the helm. He went forward and 
looked at the rocks, covered at one moment with the 
tumultuous waters, and then pouring down cascades from 
their sides as the waves recoiled. He perceived a chasm right 
ahead, and he thought if the boat was steered for that, she 
must be thrown up so as to enable them to get clear of her, 
for at every other part escape appeared impossible. 

'Starboard a little— that ’ll do. Steady— port it is— port. 
Steer small, for your life. Easy. Steady now — mind the yard 
don’t hit your head — hold on.’ 

The speronare was at this moment thrown into a large 
cleft in a rock, the sides of which were nearly perpendicular ; 
nothing else could have saved them, as, had they struck the 
rock outside, the boat would have been dashed to pieces, and 
its fragments have disappeared in the undertow. As it was, 
the cleft was not four feet more than the width of the boat, 
and as the waves hurled her up into it, the yard of the spero- 
nare was thrown fore and aft with great violence, and had 
not Jack been warned, he would have been struck overboard 
without a chance of being saved ; but he crouched down, and 
it passed over him. As the water receded, the boat struck, 
and was nearly dry between the rocks, but another wave 
followed, dashing the boat farther up, but, at the same time, 

163 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


filling it with water. The bow of the boat was now several 
feet higher than the stern, where Jack held on; and the 
weight of the water in her, with the force of the returning 
waves, separated her right across abaft the mast. Jack 
perceived that the after part of the boat was going out again 
with the wave ; he caught hold of the yard which had swung 
fore and aft, and as he clung to it, the part of the boat on 
which he had stood disappeared from under him, and was 
swept away by the returning current. 

Jack required the utmost of his strength to maintain his 
position until another wave floated him, and dashed him 
higher up ; but he knew his life depended on holding on to 
the yard, which he did, although under water, and advanced 
several feet. When the wave receded, he found footing on 
the rock, and still clinging, he walked till he gained the fore 
part of the cleft. The next wave was not very large, and he 
had gained so much that it did not throw him off his legs. 
He reached the rock, and as he climbed up the side of the 
chasm to gain the ledge above, he perceived Gascoigne stand- 
ing above him, and holding out his hand to his assistance. 

‘Well,’ says Jack, shaking himself to get rid of the water, 
‘here we are, ashore at last — I had no idea of anything like 
this. The rush back of the water was so strong that it has 
almost torn my arms out of their sockets. How very lucky I 
sent you forward with your disabled shoulder. By the bye, 
now that it ’s all over, and you must see that I was right, I beg 
to apologise for my rudeness.’ 

‘There needs no apology for saving my life. Easy,’ replied 
Gascoigne, trembling with the cold; ‘and no one but you 
would ever have thought of making one at such a moment.’ 

‘I wonder whether the ammunition ’s dry,’ said Jack ; ‘I put 
it all in my hat.’ 

Jack took off his hat, and found the cartridges had not 
suffered. 

‘Now then, Gascoigne, what shall we do?’ 

‘I hardly know,’ replied Gascoigne. 

‘Suppose, then, we sit down and argue the point.’ 

‘No, I thank you, there will be too much cold water thrown 
upon our arguments — I ’m half dead, let us walk on.’ 

‘With all my heart,’ said Jack, ‘it’s devilish steep, but I 
164 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


can argue up hill or down hill, wet or dry — Pm used to it — 
for, as I told you before, Ned my father is a philosopher, and 
so am I.’ 

‘By the Lord! you are/ replied Gascoigne, as he walked 
on. 


CHAPTER XIX 

IN WHICH OUR HERO FOLLOWS HIS DESTINY AND FORMS 
A TABLEAU 

O UR hero and his comrade climbed the precipice, and, 
after some minutes’ severe toil, arrived at the summit, 
when they sat down to recover themselves. The sky was clear 
although the gale blew strong. They had an extensive view 
of the coast, lashed by the angry waves. 

Tt ’s my opinion, Ned,’ said Jack, as he surveyed the ex- 
panse of troubled water, ‘that we ’re just as well out of that.’ 

‘I agree with you. Jack; but it’s also my opinion that we 
should be just as well out of this, for the wind blows through 
one. Suppose we go a little farther inland, where we may 
find some shelter till the morning.’ 

‘It ’s rather dark to find anything,’ rejoined our hero; ‘but, 
however, a westerly gale on the top of a mountain, with wet 
clothes in the middle of the night, with nothing to eat or 
drink, is not the most comfortable position in the world, and 
we may change for the better.’ 

They proceeded over a flat of a hundred yards and then 
descended— the change in the atmosphere was intmediate. 
As they continued their march inland, they came to a high- 
road, which appeared to run along the shore, and they turned 
into it; for, as Jack said very truly, a road must lead to some- 
thing. After a quarter of an hour’s walk, they again heard 
the rolling of the surf, and perceived the white walls of 
houses. 

‘Here we are at last,’ said Jack. ‘I wonder if any one will 

165 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


turn out to take us in, or shall we stow away for the night in 
one of those vessels hauled up on the beach?’ 

‘Recollect this time, Easy,’ said Gascoigne, ‘not to show 
your money ; that is, show only a dollar, and say you have no 
more, or promise to pay when we arrive at Palermo; and if 
they will neither trust us nor give to us, we must make it out 
as we can.’ 

‘How the cursed dogs bark! I think we shall do very 
well this time, Gascoigne; we do not look as if we were 
worth robbing, at all events, and we have the pistols to defend 
ourselves with if we are attacked. Depend upon it I will 
show no more gold. And now let us make our arrangements. 
Take you one pistol, and take half the gold — I have it all in 
my right-hand pocket, my dollars and pistarenes in my left. 
You shall take half of them, too. We have silver enough to 
go on with till we are in a safe place.’ 

Jack then divided the money in the dark, and also gave 
Gascoigne a pistol. 

‘Now then, shall we knock for admittance? Let’s first 
walk through the village, and see if there ’s anything like an 
inn. Those yelping curs will soon be at our heels ; they come 
nearer and nearer every time. There ’s a cart, and it ’s full of 
straw — suppose we go to bed till to-morrow morning — we 
shall be warm, at all events.’ 

‘Yes,’ replied Gascoigne, ‘and sleep much better than in 
any of the cottages. I have been in Sicily before, and you 
have no idea how the fleas bite.’ 

Our two midshipmen climbed up into the cart, nestled 
themselves into the straw, or rather Indian corn leaves, and 
were soon fast asleep. As they had not slept for two nights, 
it is not to be wondered at that they slept soundly— so soundly, 
indeed, that about two hours after they got into their com- 
fortable bed, the peasant who had brought to the village some 
casks of wine to be shipped and taken down the coast in a 
felucca, yoked his bullocks, and not being aware of his freight, 
drove off without in any way disturbing their repose, although 
the roads in Sicily are not yet macadamised 

The jolting of the roads rather increased than disturbed the 
sleep of our adventurers ; and, although there were some rude 
shocks, it only had the effect of making them fancy in their 

i66 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


dreams that they were again in the boat, and that she was still 
dashing against the rocks. In about two hours the cart arrived 
at its destination — the peasant unyoked his bullocks and led 
them away. The same cause will often produce contrary 
effects : the stopping of the motion of the cart disturbed the 
rest of our two midshipmen ; they turned round in the straw, 
yawned, spread out their arms, and then awoke. Gascoigne, 
who felt considerable pain in his shoulder, was the first to 
recall his shattered senses. 

'Easy,' cried he, as he sat up and shook off the corn-leaves. 

Tort it is,’ said Jack, half dreaming. 

'Come, Easy, you are not on board now. Rouse and bitt.’ 

Jack then sat up and looked at Gascoigne. The forage in 
the cart was so high round them that they could not see above 
it; they rubbed their eyes, yawned, and looked at each other. 

'Have you any faith in dreams?’ said Jack to Gascoigne, 
'because I had a very queer one last night.’ 

'Well, so had I,’ replied Gascoigne. 'I dreamt that the 
cart rolled by itself into the sea, and went away with us right 
in the wind’s eye back to Malta ; and, considering that it never 
was built for such service, she behaved uncommonly well. 
Now, what was your dream?’ 

'Mine was, that we woke up and found ourselves in the 
very town from which the speronare had sailed, and that they 
had found the fore part of the speronare among the rocks, 
had recognised her, and picked up one of our pistols. That 
they had laid hold of us, and had insisted that we had been 
thrown on shore in the boat, and asked us what had become 
of the crew— they were just seizing us, when I awoke.’ 

'Your dream is more likely to come true than mine. Easy ; 
but still I think we need not fear that. At the same time, we 
had better not remain here any longer ; and it occurs to me, 
that if we tore our clothes more, it would be advisable— we 
shall, in the first place, look more wretched ; and, in the next 
place, can replace them with the dress of the country, and so 
travel without exciting suspicion. You know that I can 
speak Italian pretty well.’ 

'I have no objection to tear my clothes if you wish,’ replied 
Jack ; 'at the same time give me your pistol ; I will draw the 
charges and load them again. They must be wet.’ 

167 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Having reloaded the pistols and rent their garments, the 
two midshipmen stood up in the cart and looked about them. 

‘Halloo! — why, how’s this, Gascoigne? last night we were 
close to the beach, and among houses, and now — where the 
devil are we? You dreamt nearer the mark than I did, for 
the cart has certainly taken a cruise.’ 

‘We must have slept like midshipmen, then,’ replied 
Gascoigne : ‘surely it cannot have gone far.’ 

‘Here we are, surrounded by hills on every side, for at least 
a couple of miles. Surely some good genius has transported 
us into the interior, that we might escape from the relatives 
of the crew whom I dreamt about,’ said Jack, looking at 
Gascoigne. 

As it afterwards was known to them, the speronare had 
sailed from the very seaport in which they had arrived that 
night, and where they had got into the cart. The wreck of the 
speronare had been found, and had been recognised, and it 
was considered by the inhabitants that the padrone and his 
crew had perished in the gale. Had they found our two 
midshipmen and questioned them, it is not improbable that 
suspicion might have been excited, and the result have been 
such as our hero had conjured up in his dream. But, as we 
said before, there is a peculiar providence for midshipmen. 

On a minuter survey, they found that they were in an open 
space which, apparently, had been used for thrashing and 
winnowing maize, and that the cart was standing under a 
clump of trees in the shade. 

‘There ought to be a house hereabouts,’ said Gascoigne; 
‘I should think that behind the trees we shall find one. Come, 
Jack, you are as hungry as I am, I ’ll answer for it ; we must 
look out for a breakfast somewhere.’ 

‘If they won’t give us something to eat, or sell it,’ replied 
Jack, who was ravenous, clutching his pistol, ‘I shall take it — I 
consider it no robbery. The fruits of the earth were made 
for us all, and it never was intended that one man should 
have a superfluity and another starve. The laws of equality 

y 

‘May appear very good arguments to a starving man, I 
grant, but still, won’t prevent his fellow-creatures from 
hanging him,’ replied Gascoigne. ‘None of your confounded 

t68 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

nonsense, Jack ; no man starves with money in his pocket, and 
as long as you have that, leave those that have none to talk 
about equality and the rights of man.’ 

‘I should like to argue that point with you, Gascoigne.’ 

‘Tell me, do you prefer sitting down here to argue, or to 
look out for some breakfast. Jack?’ 

‘Oh, the argument may be put off, but hunger cannot.’ 

‘That ’s very good philosophy. Jack, so let ’s go on.’ 

They went through the copse of wood, which was very 
thick, and soon discovered the wall of a large, house on the 
other side. 

‘All right,’ said Jack; ‘but still let us reconnoitre. It’s not* 
a farm-house, it must belong to a person of some consequence 
— all the better, they will see that we are gentlemen, notwith- 
standing our tattered dress. I suppose we are to stick to the 
stor^ of the sea-mews at Gozo.’ 

‘Yes,’ replied Gascoigne; ‘I can think of nothing better. 
But the English are well received in this island ; we have 
troops at Palermo.’ 

‘Have we? I wish I was sitting down at the mess-table — 
but what’s that? a woman screaming? Yes, by heavens!— 
come along, Ned.’ And away dashed Jack towards the house 
followed by Gascoigne. As they advanced the screams re- 
doubled; they entered the porch, burst into the room, from 
whence they proceeded, and found an elderly gentleman 
defending himself against two young men, who were held 
hack by an elderly and a young lady. Qur hero and his 
comrade had both drawn their pistols, and just as they burst 
open the door, the old gentleman who defended himself 
against such odds had fallen down. The two others burst 
from the women and were about to pierce him with their 
swords, when Jack seized one by the collar of his coat and 
held him fast, pointing the muzzle of the pistol to his ear: 
Gascoigne did the same to the other. It was a very dramatic 
tableau. The two women flew to the elderly gentleman and 
raised him up ; the two assailants being held just as dogs hold 
pigs by the ear, trembling with fright, with the points of their 
rapiers dropped, looked at the midshipmen and the muzzles of 
their pistols with equal dismay ; at the same time, the astonish- 
ment of the elderly gentleman and the women, at such an 

169 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


unexpected deliverance, was equally great. There was a 
silence for a few seconds. 

‘Ned,’ at last said Jack, ‘tell these chaps to drop their 
swords, or we fire.’ 

Gascoigne gave the order in Italian, and it was complied 
with. The midshipmen then possessed themselves of the 
rapiers and gave the young men their liberty. 

The elderly gentleman at last broke the silence. 

‘It would appear, signors, that there was an especial inter- 
ference of providence, to prevent you from committing a foul 
and unjust murder. Who these are that have so opportunely 
come to my rescue I know not, but thanking them as I do now, 
I think that you will yourselves, when you are calm, also thank 
them for having prevented you from committing an act which 
would have loaded you with remorse and embittered your 
future existence. Gentlemen, you are free to depart: you, 
Don Silvio, have indeed disappointed me, your gratitude 
should have rendered you incapable of such conduct : as for 
you, Don Scipio, you have been misled ; but you both have, in 
one point, disgraced yourselves. Ten days back my sons were 
both here, why did you not come then ? if you sought revenge 
on me, you could not have inflicted it deeper than through 
my children, and at least you would not have acted the part 
of assassins in attacking an old man. Take your swords, 
gentlemen, and use them better henceforth. Against future 
attacks I shall be well prepared.’ 

Gascoigne, who perfectly understood what was said, pre- 
sented the sword to the young gentleman from whom he had 
taken it— our hero did the same. The two young men re- 
turned them to their sheaths, and quitted the room without 
saying a word. 

‘Whoever you are, I owe to you and thank you for my 
life,’ said the elderly gentleman, scanning the outward appear- 
ance of our two midshipmen. 

‘We are,’ replied Gascoigne, ‘officers in the English navy 
and gentlemen ; we were wrecked in our boat last night, and 
have wandered here in the dark, seeking for assistance, and 
food, and some conveyance to Palermo, where we shall find 
friends and the means of appearing like gentlemen.’ 

‘Was your ship wrecked, gentlemen?’ inquired the Sicilian; 
‘and many lives lost?’ 


170 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘No, our ship is at Malta; we were in a boat on a party 
of pleasure, were caught by a gale and driven on the coast. 
To satisfy you of the truth, observe that our pistols have the 
king’s mark, and that we are not paupers, we show you gold.’ 

Gascoigne pulled out his doubloons — and Jack did the 
same, coolly observing, 

‘I thought we were only to show silver, Ned !’ 

‘It needed not that,’ replied the gentleman; ‘your conduct 
in this affair, your manners and address, fully convince me 
that you are what you represent — ^but were you common 
peasants, I am equally indebted to you for my life, and you 
may command me. Tell me in what way I can be of service.’ 

‘In giving us something to eat, for we have had nothing 
for many, many hours. After that, we may, perhaps, trespass 
a little more upon your kind offices.’ 

‘You must, of course, be surprised at what has passed, and 
curious to know the occasion,’ said the gentleman ; ‘you have 
a right to be informed of it, and shall be, as soon as you are 
more comfortable; in the meantime, allow me to introduce 
myself as Don Rebiera de Silva.’ 

‘I wish,’ said Jack, who, from his knowledge of Spanish, 
could understand the whole of the last part of the Don’s 
speech, ‘that he would introduce us to his breakfast.’ 

‘So do I,’ said Gascoigne; ‘but we must wait a little — he 
ordered the ladies to prepare something instantly.’ 

‘Your friend does not speak Italian,’ said Don Rebiera. 

‘No, Don Rebiera, he speaks French and Spanish.’ 

‘If he speaks Spanish my daughter can converse with him, 
she has but shortly arrived from Spain. We are closely 
united with a noble house in that country.’ 

Don Rebiera then led the way to another room, and in a 
short time there was a repast brought in, to which our mid- 
shipmen did great justice. 

‘I will now,’ said the Don, ‘relate to you, sir, for the in- 
formation of yourself and friend, the causes which produced 
this scene of violence, which you so opportunely defeated. 
But first, as it must be very tedious to your friend, I will send 
for Donna Clara and my daughter Agnes to talk to him ; my 
wife understands a little Spanish, and my daughter, as I said 
before, has but just left the country, where from circum- 
stances, she remained some years.’ 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


As soon as Donna Clara and Donna Agnes made their 
appearance and were introduced, Jack, who had not before 
paid attention to them, said to himself, ‘I have seen a face 
like that girl’s before.’ If so, he had never seen many like it, 
for it was the quintessence of brunette beauty, and her figure 
was equally perfect; although, not having yet completed her 
fifteenth year, it required still a little more development. 

Donna Clara was extremely gracious, and as, perhaps, she 
was aware that her voice would drown that of her husband, 
she proposed to our hero to walk in the garden, and in a few 
minutes they took their seats in a pavilion at the end of it. 
The old lady did not talk much Spanish, but when at a loss 
for a word she put in an Italian one, and Jack understood her 
perfectly well. She told him her sister had married a Spanish 
nobleman many years since, and that before the war broke 
out between the Spanish and the English, they had gone over 
with all their children to see her; that when they wished to 
return, her daughter Agnes, then a child, was suffering under 
a lingering complaint, and it was thought advisable, as she 
was very weak, to leave her under the charge of her aunt, who 
had a little girl of nearly the same age; that they were 
educated together at a convent, near Tarragona, and that she 
had only returned two months ago; that she had a very 
narrow escape, as the ship in which her uncle, and aunt, and 
cousins, as well as herself, were on board, returned from 
Genoa, where her brother-in-law had been obliged to go to 
secure a succession to some property bequeathed to him, had 
been captured in the night by the English; but the officer, 
who was very polite, had allowed them to go away next day, 
and very handsomely permitted them to take all their effects. 

‘Oh, oh,’ thought Jack; ‘I thought I had seen her face 
before; this then was one of the girls in the corner of the 
cabin— now, I ’ll have some fun.’ 

During the conversation with the mother, Donna Agnes 
had remained some paces behind, picking now and then a 
flower, and not attending to what passed. 

When our hero and her mother sat down in the pavilion 
she joined them, when Jack addressed her with his usual 
politeness. 

T am almost ashamed to be sitting by you, Donna Agnes, 
172 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


in this ragged dress— but the rocks of your coast have no 
respect for persons.' 

‘We are under great obligations, signor, and do not regard 
such trifles.’ 

‘You are all kindness, signora,’ replied Jack; ‘1 little 
thought this morning of my good fortune,— I can tell the 
fortunes of others, but not my own.’ 

‘You can tell fortunes !’ replied the old lady. 

‘Yes, madam, I am famous for it — shall I tell your daughter 
hers ?’ 

Donna Agnes looked at our hero, and smiled. 

‘I perceive that the young lady does not believe me; I 
must prove my art, by telling her of what has already 
happened to her. The signora will then give me credit.’ 

‘Certainly, if you do that,’ replied Agnes. 

‘Oblige me by showing me the palm of your hand.’ 

Agnes extended her little hand, and Jack felt so very polite, 
that he was nearly kissing it. However he restrained himself, 
and examining the lines — 

‘That you were educated in Spain — that you arrived here 
but two months ago — that you were captured and released by 
the English your mother has already told me ; but to prove to 
you that I knew all that, I must now be more particular. You 
were in a ship mounting fourteen guns — was it not so?’ 

Donna Agnes nodded her head. 

‘I never told the signor that,’ cried Donna Clara. 

‘She was taken by surprise in the night, and there was no 
fighting. The next morning, the English burst open the cabin 
door; your uncle and your cousin fired their pistols.’ 

‘Holy Virgin!’ cried Agnes with surprise. 

‘The English officer was a young man not very good- 
looking.’ 

‘There you are wrong, signor, he was very handsome.’ 

‘There is no accounting for taste, signora; you were 
frightened out of your wits, and with your cousin you 
crouched down in the corner of the cabin. Let me examine 
that line closer — you had, yes, it ’s no mistake, you had very 
little clothes on.’ 

Agnes tore away her hand and covered her face. 

‘E '^ero, E vero. Holy Jesus! how could you know that?’ 

173 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Of a sudden' Agnes looked at our hero, and after a minute 
appeared to recognise him. 

'Oh mother, ’t is he : — I recollect now, 't is he !' 

'Who, my child T replied Donna Clara, who had been 
struck dumb with Jack’s astonishing power of fortune-telling. 

'The officer who captured us and was so kind.’ 

Jack burst out into a laughter, not to be controlled for 
some minutes, and then acknowledged that she had discovered 
him. 

'At all events, Donna Agnes,’ said he at last, 'acknowledge 
that, ragged as I am, I have seen you in a much greater 
dishabille.’ 

Agnes sprang up and took to her heels, that she might 
hide her confusion, and at the same time go to her father and 
tell him who he had as his guest. 

Although Don Rebiera had not yet finished his narrative, 
this announcement of Agnes, who ran in breathless to com- 
municate it, immediately brought all parties together, and 
Jack received their thanks. 

'I little thought,’ said the Don, 'that I should have been 
so doubly indebted to you, sir. Command my services as you 
please, both of you. My sons are at Palermo, and I trust you 
will allow them the pleasure of your friendship when you are 
tired of remaining with us.’ 

Jack made his politest bow, and then with a shrug of his 
shoulders looked down upon his habiliments, which, to please 
Gascoigne, he had tom into ribbands, as much as to say. We 
are not provided for a lengthened stay. 

'My brothers’ clothes will fit them, I think,’ said Agnes to 
her father ; 'they left plenty in their wardrobes.’ 

'If the signors will condescend to wear them, till they can 
replace their own.’ 

Midshipmen are very condescending— they followed Don 
Rebiera, and condescended to put on clean shirts belonging 
to Don Philip and Don Martin ; also to put on their trousers — 
to select their best waistcoats and coats — in short, they con- 
descended to have a regular fit out — and it so happened that 
the fit out was not far from a regular fit. 

Having condescended, they then descended, and the inti- 
macy between all parties became so great that it appeared as 

174 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


if they not only wore the young men’s clothes, but also stood 
in their shoes. Having thus made themselves presentable, 
Jack presented his hand to both ladies, and led them into the 
garden, that Don Rebiera might finish his long story to 
Gascoigne without further interruption, and resuming their 
seats in the pavilion, he entertained the ladies with a history 
of his cruise in the ship after her capture. Agnes soon re- 
covered from her reserve, and Jack had the forbearance not to 
allude again to the scene in the cabin, which was the only 
thing she dreaded. After dinner, when the family, according 
to custom, had retired for the siesta, Gascoigne and Jack, who 
had slept enough in the cart to last for a week, went out 
together in the garden. 

'Well, Ned,’ said Jack, 'do you wish yourself on board the 
Harpy again?’ 

'No,’ replied Gascoigne, 'we have fallen on our feet at last, 
but still not without first being knocked about like peas in a 
rattle. What a lovely little creature that Agnes is! How 
strange that you should fall in with her again 1 How odd that 
we should come here!’ 

'My good fellow, we did not come here. Destiny brought 
us in a cart. She may take us to Tyburn in the same way.’ 

'Yes, if you sport your philosophy as you did when we 
awoke this morning.’ 

'Nevertheless, I ’ll be hanged if I ’m not right. Suppose we 
argue the point?’ 

'Right or wrong, you will be hanged. Jack; so instead of 
arguing the point, suppose I tell you what the Don made such 
a long story about.’ 

'With all my heart ; let us go to the pavilion.’ 

Our hero and his friend took their seats, and Gascoigne 
then communicated the history of Don Rebiera, to which we 
shall dedicate the ensuing chapter. 


175 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER XX 

A LONG STORY, WHICH THE READER MUST LISTEN TO, AS WELL 
AS OUR HERO 

I HAVE already made you acquainted with my name, 
and I have only to add that it is one of the most noble in 
Sicily, and that there are few families who possess such large 
estates. My father was a man who had no pleasure 
in the pursuits of most of the young men of his age ; he was 
of a weakly constitution, and was with difficulty reared to 
manhood. When his studies were completed he retired to his 
country-seat, belonging to our family, which is about twenty 
miles from Palermo, and shutting himself up, devoted him- 
self wholly to literary pursuits. 

‘As he was an only son, his parents were naturally very 
anxious that he should marry ; the more so as his health did 
not promise him a very extended existence. Had he consulted 
his own inclinations he would have declined, but he felt that it 
was his duty to comply with their wishes ; but he did not 
trouble himself with the choice, leaving it wholly to them. 
They selected a young lady of high family, and certainly of 
most exquisite beauty. I only wish I could say more in her 
favour, for she was my mother ; but it is impossible to narrate 
the history without exposing her conduct. The marriage 
took place, and my father, having woke up as it were at the 
celebration, again returned to his closet, to occupy himself 
in abstruse studies ; the results of which have been published, 
and have fully established his reputation as a man of superior 
talent and deep research. But, however much the public may 
appreciate the works of a man of genius, whether they be 
written to instruct or to amuse, certain it is that a literary 
man requires, in his wife, either a mind congenial to his own, 
or that pride in her husband’s talents which induces her to 
sacrifice much of her own domestic enjoyment to the satis- 
faction of having his name extolled abroad. I mention this 
point as some extenuation of my mother’s conduct. She was 
neglected most certainly, but not neglected for frivolous 
amusements, or because another form had more captivated 

176 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


his fancy ; but, in his desire to instruct others, and I may add, 
his ambition for renown, he applied himself to his literary 
pursuits, became abstracted, answered without hearing, and 
left his wife to amuse herself in any way she might please. 
A literary husband is, without exception, although always at 
home, the least domestic husband in the world, and must try 
the best of tempers, not by unkindness, for my father was kind 
and indulgent to excess, but by that state of perfect abstrac- 
tion and indifference which he showed to everything except 
the favourite pursuit which absorbed him. My mother had 
but to speak, and every wish was granted — a refusal was un- 
known. You may say, what could she want more? I reply, 
that anything to a woman is preferable to indifference. The 
immediate consent to every wish took away, in her opinion, 
all merit in the grant ; the value of everything is only relative, 
and in proportion to the difficulty of obtaining it. The im- 
mediate assent to every opinion was tantamount to insult ; it 
implied that he did not choose to argue with her. 

Tt is true that women like to have their own way; but 
they like, at the same time, to have difficulties to surmount 
and to conquer. Otherwise, half the gratification is lost. 
Although tempests are to be deplored, still a certain degree of 
oscillation and motion is requisite to keep fresh and clear the 
lake of matrimony, the waters of which otherwise soon 
stagnate and become foul, and without some contrary currents 
of opinion between a married couple such a stagnation must 
take place. 

'A woman permitted always and invariably to have her 
own way without control is much in the same situation as the 
child who insists upon a whole instead of half a holiday; and 
before the evening closes is tired of himself and everything 
about him. In short, a little contradiction, like salt at dinner, 
seasons and appetises the repast; but too much, like the 
condiment in question, spoils the whole, and it becomes un- 
palatable in proportion to its excess. 

'My mother was a vain woman in every sense of the word 
—vain of her birth and of her beauty, and accustomed to 
receive that hornage to which she considered herself entitled. 
She had been spoiled in her infancy, and as she grew up had 
learnt nothing, because she was permitted to do as she pleased ; 

177 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


she was therefore frivolous, and could not appreciate what she 
could not comprehend. There never was a more ill-assorted 
union.’ 

T have always thought that such must be the case/ replied 
Gascoigne, 'in Catholic countries, where a young person is 
taken out of a convent and mated according to what her family 
or her wealth may consider as the most eligible connection.’ 

‘On that subject there are many opinions, my friend,’ 
replied Don Rebiera. ‘It is true, that when a marriage of 
convenience is arranged by the parents, the dispositions of the 
parties are made a secondary point; but then, again, it must 
be remembered, that when a choice is left to the parties them- 
selves, it is at an age at which there is little worldly considera- 
tion ; and, led away, in thq first place, by their passions, they 
form connections with those inferior in their station, which 
are attended with eventual unhappiness; or, in the other, 
allowing that they do choose in their own rank of life, they 
make quite as bad or often a worse choice than if their 
partners were selected for them.’ 

‘I cannot understand that,’ replied Gascoigne. 

‘The reason is, because there are no means, or if means, 
no wish, to study each other’s disposition. A young man is 
attracted by person, and he admires; the young woman is 
flattered by the admiration, and is agreeable; if she has any 
faults she is not likely to display them — not concealing them 
from hypocrisy, but because they are not called out. The 
young man falls in love, so does the young woman ; and when 
once in love, they can no longer see faults; they marry, 
imagining that they have found perfection. In the blindness 
of love, each raises the other to a standard of perfection which 
human nature can never attain, and each becomes equally 
annoyed on finding, by degrees, that they were in error. The 
reaction takes place, and they then underrate, as much as 
before they had overrated, each other. Now, if two young 
people marry without this violence of passion, they do not 
expect to find each other perfect, and perhaps have a better 
chance of happiness.’ 

‘I don’t agree with you,’ thought Gascoigne, ‘but as you 
appear to be as fond of argument as my friend Jack, I shall 
make no reply, lest there be no end to the story.’ 

178 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Don Rebiera proceeded. 

'My mother, finding that my father preferred his closet 
and his books to gaiety and dissipation, soon left him to him- 
self, and amused herself after her own fashion, but not until I 
was born, which was ten months after their marriage. My 
father was confiding, and, pleased that my maOther should be 
amused, he indulged her in everything. Time flew on, and I 
had arrived at my fifteenth year, and came home from my 
studies, it being intended that I should enter the army, which 
you are aware is generally the only profession embraced in 
this country by the heirs of noble families. Of course, I 
knew little of what had passed at home, but still I had 
occasionally heard my mother spoken lightly of, when I was 
not supposed to be present, and I always heard my father’s 
name mentioned with compassion^ as if an ill-used man, but 
I knew nothing more ; still this was quite sufficient for a young 
man, whose blood boiled at the idea of anything like a stigma 
being cast upon his family. I arrived at my father’s, I found 
him at his books; I paid my respects to my mother, I found 
her with her confessor. I disliked the man at first sight; he 
was handsome, certainly : his forehead was high and whit‘-> his 
eyes large and fiery, and his figure commanding; but there 
was a dangerous, proud look about him which disgusted me, — 
nothing like humility or devotion. I might have admired 
him as an officer commanding a regiment of cavalry, but as 
a churchman he appeared to be most misplaced. She named 
me with kindness, but he appeared to treat me with disdain ; 
he spoke authoritatively to my mother, who appeared to yield 
implicitly, and I discovered that he was lord of the whole 
household. My mother, too, it was said, had given up gaieties 
and become devout. I soon perceived more than a common 
intelligence between them, and before I had been two months 
at home I had certain proofs of my father’s dishonour; and, 
what was still more unfortunate for me, they were aware that 
such was the case. My first impulse was to acquaint my 
father; but, on consideration, I thought it better to say 
nothing, provided I could persuade my mother to dismiss 
Father Ignatio. I took an opportunity when she was alone 
to express my indignation at her conduct, and to demand 
his immediate dismissal, as a condition of my not divulging 

179 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


her crime. She appeared frightened, and gave her consent; 
but I soon found that her confessor had more power with her 
than I had, and he remained. I now resolved to acquaint my 
father, and I roused him from his studies that he might listen 
to his shame. I imagined that he would have acted calmly 
and discreetly ; but, on the contrary, his violence was without 
bounds, and I had the greatest difficulty in preventing his 
rushing with his swoid to sacrifice them both. At last he 
contented himself by turning Father Ignatio out of the house 
in the most ignominious manner, and desiring my mother to 
prepare for seclusion in a convent for the remainder of her 
days. But he fell their victim ; three days aiterwards, as my 
mother was, by his directions, about to be removed, he was 
seized with convulsions and died. I need hardly say that he 
was carried off by poison ; this, however, could not be estab- 
lished till long afterwards. Before he died he seemed to be 
almost supernaturally prepared for an event which never 
came into my thoughts. He sent for another confessor, who 
drew up his confession in writing at his own request, and 
afterwards inserted it in his will. My mother remained in 
the house, and Father Ignatio had the insolence to return. I 
ordered him away, and he resisted. He was turned out by 
the servants. I had an interview with my mother, who defied 
me, and told me that I should soon have a brother to share in 
the succession. I felt that if so, it^would be the illegitimate 
progeny of her adultery, and told her my opinion. She 
expressed her rage in the bitterest curses, and I left her. 
Shortly afterwards she quitted the house and retired to another 
of our country-seats, where she lived with Father Ignatio as 
before. About four months afterwards formal notice was 
sent to me of the birth of a brother ; but, as when my father’s 
will was opened, he there had inserted his confession, or the 
substance of it, in which he stated that, aware of my mother’s 
guilt, and supposing that consequences might ensue, he 
solemnly declared before God that he had for years lived 
apart. I cared little for this communication — I contented 
myself with replying that as the child belonged to the Church 
it had better be dedicated to its service. 

^I had, however, soon reason to acknowledge the vengeance 
i8o 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


of my mother and her paramour. One night I was attacked 
by bravos; and had I not fortunately received assistance, I 
should have forfeited my life; as it was, I received a severe 
wound. 

‘Against attempts of that kind I took every precaution in 
future, but still every attempt was made to ruin my character, 
as well as to take my life. A young sister disappeared from a 
convent in my neighbourhood, and on the ground near the 
window from which she descended was found a hat, recognised 
to be mine. I was proceeded against, and notwithstanding the 
strongest interest, it was with difficulty that the affair was 
arranged, although I had incontestably proved an alibi. 

‘A young man of rank was found murdered with a stiletto, 
known to be mine, buried in his bosom, and it was with 
difficulty that I could establish my innocence. 

‘Part of a banditti had been seized, and on being asked 
the name of their chief, when they received absolution, they 
confessed that I was the chief of the band. 

‘Everything that could be attempted was put into practice; 
and if I did not lose my life, at all events I was avoided by 
almost everybody as a dangerous and doubtful character. 

‘At last a nobleman of rank, the father of Don Scipio, whom 
you disarmed, was assassinated; the bravos were taken, and 
they acknowledged that I was the person who hired them. 
I defended m^ 'elf, but the king imposed upon me a heavy 
fine and banishment. I had just received the order, and was 
crying out against the injustice, and lamenting my hard fate, 
as I sat down to dinner. Latterly, aware of what my enemies 
would attempt, I had been accustomed to live much alone. 
My faithful valet Pedro was my only attendant. I was eating 
my dinner with little appetite, and had asked for some wine. 
Pedro went to the beaufet behind him, to give me what I 
required. Accidentally I lifted up my head, and there being a 
large pier-glass opposite to me, I saw the figure of my valet, 
and that he was pouring a powder in the flagon of wine which 
he was about to present to me. I recollected the hat being 
found at the nunnery, and also the stiletto in the body of the 
young man. 

‘Like lightning it occurred to me that I had been fostering 
i8i 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


the viper who had assisted to destroy me. He brought me 
the flagon. I rose, locked the door, and drawing my sword, 
I addressed him: 

'“Villain! I know thee; down on your knees, for your 
life is forfeited.” 

'He turned pale, trembled, and sank upon his knees. 

' “Now, then,” continued I, “you have but one chance — 
either drink off this flagon of wine, or I pass my sword 
through your body.” He hesitated, and I put the point to his 
breast, even pierced the flesh a quarter of an inch. 

' “Drink,” cried I — “is it so very unjust an order, to tell 
you to drink old wine? Drink,” continued I, “or my sword 
does its duty.” 

'He drank, and would then have quitted the room. “No, 
no,” said I, “you remain here, and the wine must have its 
effect. If I have wronged you I will make amends to you — 
but I am suspicious.” 

'In about a quarter of an hour, during which time I paced 
up and down the room, with my sword drawn, my servant fell 
down, and cried in mercy to let him have a priest. I sent for 
my own confessor, and he then acknowledged that he was an 
agent of my mother and Father Ignatio, and had been the 
means of making it appear that I was the committer of all the 
crimes and murders which had been perpetrated by them 
with a view to my destruction. A strong emetic having been 
administered to him, he partially revived, and was taken to 
Palermo, where he gave his evidence before he expired. 

'When this was made known the king revoked his sentence, 
apologised to me, and I found that once more I was visited 
and courted by everybody. My mother was ordered to be 
shut up in a convent, where she died, I trust, in grace, and 
Father Ignatio fled to Italy, and I have been informed is since 
dead. 

'Having thus rid myself of my principal enemies, I 
considered myself safe. I married the lady whom you have 
just seen, and before my eldest son was born, Don Silvio, for 
such was the name given to my asserted legitimate brother, 
came of age, and demanded his succession. Had he asked 
me for a proper support, as my uterine brother, I should not 
have refused; but that the son of Friar Ignatio, who had so 

182 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


often attempted my life, should, in case of my decease, succeed 
to the title and estates, was not to be borne. A lawsuit was 
immediately commenced, which Jasted four or five years, 
during which Don Silvio married, and had a son, that young 
man whom you heard me address by the same name; but 
after much litigation, it was decided that my father’s confessor 
and will had proved his illegitimacy, and the suit was in my 
favour. From that time to this there has been a constant 
enmity. Don Silvio refused all my offers of assistance, and 
followed me with a pertinacity which often endangered my 
life. At last he fell by the hands of his own agents, who 
mistook him for me. Don Silvio died without leaving any 
provision for his family; his widow I pensioned, and his son 
I have had carefully brought up, and have indeed treated 
most liberally, but he appears to have imbibed the spirit of his 
father, and no kindness has been able to embue him with 
gratitude. 

‘He had lately been placed by me in the army, where he 
found out my two sons, and quarrelled with them both upon 
slight pretence, but, in both instances, he was wounded and 
carried off the field. 

‘My two sons have been staying with me these last two 
months, and did not leave till yesterday. This morning Don 
Silvio, accompanied by Don Scipio, came to the house, and 
after accusing me of being the murderer of both their parents, 
drew their rapiers to assassinate me. My wife and child hear- 
ing the noise, came down to my assistance. You know the 
rest.’ 


CHAPTER XXI 

IN WHICH OUR HERO IS BROUGHT UP ALL STANDING UNDER 
A PRESS OF SAIL 

O UR limits will not permit us to relate all that passed dur- 
ing our hero’s stay of a fortnight at Don Rebiera’s. He 
and Gascoigne were treated as if they were his own sons, and 
the kindness of the female part of the family was equally re- 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


markable. Agnes, naturally perhaps, showed a preference or 
partiality for Jack; to which Gascoigne willingly submitted, 
as he felt that our hero had a prior and stronger claim, and 
during the time that they remained, a feeling of attachment 
was created between Agnes and the philosopher, which, if not 
love, was at least something very near akin to it ; but the fact 
was, that they were both much too young to think of mar- 
riage ; and, although they walked and talked, and laughed and 
played together, they were always at home in time for their 
dinner. Still, the young lady thought she preferred our hero 
even to her brothers, and Jack thought that the young lady was 
the prettiest and the kindest girl that he had ever met with. 
At the end of the fortnight our two midshipmen took their 
leave, furnished with letters of recommendation to many of 
the first nobility in Palermo, and mounted on two fine mules 
with bell-bridles. The old Donna kissed them both — the Don 
showered down his blessings of good wishes, and Donna 
Agnes’s lips trembled as she bade them adieu ; and, as soon as 
they were gone, she went up to her chamber and wept. Jack 
also was very grave, and his eyes moistened at the thoughts 
of leaving Agnes. Neither of them was aware, until the hour 
of parting, how much they had wound themselves together. 

The first quarter of an hour our two midshipmen followed 
their guide in silence. Jack wished to be left to his own 
thoughts, and Gascoigne perceived it. 

‘Well, Easy,’ said Gascoigne, at last, ‘if I had been in your 
place, constantly in company of, and loved by that charming 
girl, I could never have torn myself away.’ 

‘Loved by her, Ned,’ replied Jack, ‘what makes you say 
that ?’ 

‘Because I am sure it was the case; she lived but in your 
presence. Why, if you were out of the room, she never spoke 
a word, but sat there as melancholy as a sick monkey — the 
moment you came in again, she beamed out as glorious as the 
sun, and was all life and spirit.’ 

‘I thought people were always melancholy when they were 
in love,’ replied Jack. 

‘When those that they love are out of their presence.’ 

‘Well, then, I am out of her presence, and I feel very 
melancholy, so I suppose, by your argument, I am in love. 
Can a man be in love without knowing it?’ 

184 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘I really cannot say, Jack, I never was in love myself, but 
I Ve seen many others spooney. My time will come, I suppose, 
by and by. They say that for every man made there is a 
woman also made to fit him, if he could only find her. Now, 
it ’s my opinion that you have found yours — I ’ll lay my life 
she’s crying at this moment.’ 

'Do you really think so, Ned? let’s go back — poor little 
Agnes — let ’s go back ; I feel I do love her, and I ’ll tell her so.’ 

‘Pooh, nonsense ! it ’s too late now ; you should have told 
her that before, when you walked with her in the garden.’ 

‘But I did not know it, Ned. However, as you say, it 
would be foolish to turn back, so I ’ll write to her from 
Palermo.’ 

Here an argument ensued upon love, which we shall not 
trouble the reader with, as it was not very profound, both sides 
knowing very little on the subject. It did, however, end with 
our hero being convinced that he was desperately in love, and 
he talked about giving up the service as soon as he arrived at 
Malta. It is astonishing what sacrifices midshipmen will 
make for the objects of their adoration. 

It was not until late in the evening that our adventurers 
arrived at Palermo. As soon as they were lodged at the 
hotel, Gascoigne sat down and wrote a letter in their joint 
names to Don Rebiera, returning him many thanks for his 
great kindness, informing him of their safe arrival, and trust- 
ing that they should soon meet again : and Jack took up his 
pen, and indicted a letter in Spanish to Agnes, in which he 
swore that neither tide nor time, nor water nor air, nor heaven 
nor earth, nor the first lieutenant nor his father, nor absence, 
nor death itself, should prevent him from coming back and 
marrying her, the first convenient opportunity, begging her to 
refuse a thousand offers, as come back he would, although 
' there was no saying when. It was a perfect love-letter, that 
is to say, it was the essence of nonsense, but that made it per- 
fect, for the greater the love the greater the folly. 

These letters were consigned to the man who was sent as 
their guide, and also had to return with the mules. He was 
liberally rewarded ; and, as Jack told him to be very careful of 
his letter, the Italian naturally concluded that it was to be 
delivered clandestinely, and he delivered it accordingly, at a 
time when Agnes was walking in the garden thinking of our 

185 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


hero. Nothing was more opportune than the arrival of the 
letter; Agnes ran to the pavilion, read it over twenty times, 
kissed it twenty times, and hid it in her bosom ; sat for a few 
minutes in deep and placid thought, took the letter out of its 
receptacle, and read it over and over again. It was very bad 
Spanish and very absurd, but she thought it delightful, 
poetical, classical, sentimental, argumentative, convincing, 
incontrovertible, imaginative, and even grammatical, for if it 
was not good Spanish, there was no Spanish half so good. 
Alas! Agnes was, indeed, unsophisticated, to be in such 
ecstasies with a midshipman’s love-letter. Once more she 
hastened to her room to weep, but it was from excess of joy 
and delight. The reader may think Agnes silly, but he must 
take into consideration the climate, and that she was not yet 
fifteen. 

Our young gentlemen sent for a tailor and each ordered a 
new suit of clothes ; they delivered their letters of recommen- 
dation and went to the banker to whom they were addressed 
by Don Rebiera. 

T shall draw for ten pounds. Jack,’ said Gascoigne, ‘on the 
strength of the shipwreck; I shall tell the truth, all except 
that we forgot to ask for leave, which I shall leave out ; and 
I ’m sure the story will be worth ten pounds. What shall 
you draw for. Jack?’ 

T shall draw for two hundred pounds,’ replied Jack; T 
mean to have a good cruise while I can.’ 

‘But will your governor stand that. Easy ?’ 

‘To be sure he will.’ 

‘Then you ’re right— he is a philosopher— I wish he ’d 
teach mine, for he hates the sight of a bill.’ 

‘Then don’t you draw, Ned, — I have plenty for both. If 
every man had his equal share and rights in the world, you 
would be able to draw as much as I; and, as you cannot, 
upon the principles of equality, you shall have half. 

‘I really shall become a convert to your philosophy. Jack; 
it does not appear to be so nonsensical as I thought it. At all 
events, it has saved my old governor ten pounds, which he 
can ill afford, as a colonel on half-pay.’ 

On their return to the inn, they found Don Philip and Don 
Martin, to whom Don Rebiera had written, who welcomed 

i86 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


them with open arms. They were two very fine young men 
of eighteen and nineteen, who were finishing their education 
in the army. Jack asked them to dinner, and they and our 
hero soon became inseparable. They took him to all the 
theatres, the conversaziones of all the nobility, and, as Jack 
lost his money with good humour, and was a very handsome 
fellow, he was everywhere well received and was made much 
of ; many ladies made love to him, but Jack was only very 
polite, because he thought more and more of Agnes every 
day. Three weeks passed away like lightning, and neither 
Jack nor Gascoigne thought of going back. At last, one fine 
day, H.M. frigate Aurora anchored in the bay, and Jack and 
Gascoigne, who were at a party at the Duke of Pentaro’s, met 
with the captain of the Aurora, who was also invited. The 
duchess introduced them to Captain Tartar, who, imagining 
them, from their being in plain clothes, to be young English- 
men of fortune on their travels, was gracious and condescend- 
ing. Jack was so pleased with his urbanity that he requested 
the pleasure of his company to dinner the next day ; Captain 
Tartar accepted the invitation, and they parted, shaking 
hands, with many expressions of pleasure in having made 
his acquaintance. Jack’s party was rather large, and the 
dinner sumptuous. The Sicilian gentlemen did not drink 
much wine, but Captain Tartar liked his bottle, and although 
the rest of the company quitted the table to go to a ball given 
that evening by the Marquesa Novara, Jack was too polite 
not to sit it out with the captain ; Gascoigne closed his chair 
to Jack’s, who, he was afraid, being a little affected with the 
wine, would ‘let the cat out of the bag.’ 

The captain was amazingly entertaining. Jack told him 
how happy he should be to see him at Forest Hill, which 
property the captain discovered to contain six thousand acres 
of land, and also that Jack was an only son; and Captain 
Tartar was quite respectful when he found that he was in 
such very excellent company. The captain of the frigate 
inquired of Jack what brought him out here, and Jack, whose 
prudence was departing, told him that he came out in his 
Majesty’s ship Harpy. Gascoigne gave Jack a nudge, but it 
was of no use, for as the wine got into Jack’s brain so did his 
notions of equality. 


187 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘Oh ! Wilson gave you a passage, he ’s an old friend of 
mine.’ 

‘So he is of ours,’ replied Jack ; ‘he ’s a devilish good sort 
of a fellow, Wilson.’ 

‘But where have you been since you came out?’ inquired 
Captain Tartar. 

‘In the Harpy/ replied Jack, ‘to be sure, I belong to her.’ 

‘You belong to her! in what capacity may I ask?’ in- 
quired Captain Tartar, in a much less respectful and con- 
fidential tone. 

‘Midshipman,’ replied Jack; ‘so is Mr. Gascoigne.’ 

‘Umph ; you are on leave then.’ 

‘No, indeed,’ replied Jack ; ‘I ’ll tell you how it is, my dear 
fellow.’ 

‘Excuse me one moment,’ replied Captain Tartar, rising 
up; ‘I must give some directions to my servant which I 
forgot.’ 

Captain Tartar hailed his coxswain out of the window, gave 
orders just outside of the door, and then returned to the 
table. In the meantime, Gascoigne, who expected a breeze, 
had been cautioning Jack, in a low tone, at intervals, when 
Captain Tartar’s back was turned; but it was useless, the 
extra quantity of wine had got into Jack’s head, and he 
cared nothing for Gascoigne’s remonstrances. When the 
captain resumed his seat at the table. Jack gave him the true 
narrative of all that had passed, to which his guest paid the 
greatest attention. Jack wound up his confidence by say- 
ing, that in a week or so he should go back to Don Rebiera 
and propose for Donna Agnes. 

‘Ah I’ exclaimed Captain Tartar, drawing his breath with 
astonishment and compressing his lips. 

‘Tartar, the wine stands with you,’ said Jack, ‘allow me to 
help you.’ 

Captain Tartar threw himself back in his chair and let all 
the air out of his chest with a sort of whistle, as if he could 
hardly contain himself. 

‘Have you had wine enough?’ said Jack very politely; 
‘if so, we will go to the Marquesa’s.’ 

The coxswain came to the door, touched his hat to the 
captain, and looked significantly. 

i88 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


^And so, sir,’ cried Captain Tartar, in a voice of thunder, 
rising from his chair, ‘you ’re a d — d runaway midshipman, 
who, if you belonged to my ship, instead of marrying Donna 
Agnes, I would marry you to the gunner’s daughter, by 
G — d! Two midshipmen sporting plain clothes in the best 
society in Palermo, and having the impudence to ask a post- 
captain to dine with them! To ask me, and address me as 
Tartar, and my dear fellow! You infernal young scamps!’ 
continued Captain Tartar, now boiling with rage, and strik- 
ing his fist on the table so as to set all the glasses waltzing. 

Allow me to observe, sir,’ said Jack, who was completely 
sobered by the address, ‘that we do not belong to your ship, 
and that we are in plain clothes.’ 

‘In plain clothes — midshipmen in mufti — yes, you are so; 
a couple of young swindlers, without a sixpence in your 
pockets, passing yourselves off as young men of fortune, and 
walking off through the window without paying your bill.’ 

‘Do you mean to call me a swindler, sir?’ replied Jack. 

‘Yes, sir, you ’ 

‘Then you lie,’ exclaimed our hero, in a rage. ‘I am a 
gentleman, sir— I am sorry I cannot pay you the same com- 
pliment.’ 

The astonishment and rage of Captain Tartar took away 
his breath. He tried to speak, but could not— he gasped, and 
gasped, and then sat or almost fell down in his chair— at last 
he recovered himself. 

‘Matthews — Matthews !’ 

‘Sir,’ replied the coxswain, who had remained at the door. 

‘The sergeant of marines.’ 

‘Here he is, sir.’ 

‘The sergeant entered and raised the back of his hand to 
his hat. 

‘Bring your marines in— take charge of these two. 
Directly you are on board, put them both legs in irons.’ 

The marines with their bayonets walked in and took 
possession of our hero and Gascoigne. 

‘Perhaps, sir,’ replied Jack, who was now cool again, ^you 
will permit us to pay our bill before we go on board. We are 
no swindlers, and it is rather a heavy one— or, as you have 
taken possession of our persons, you will, perhaps, do us the 

189 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


favour to discharge it yourself and Jack threw on the table 
a heavy purse of dollars. ‘I have only to observe, Captain 
Tartar, that I wish to be very liberal to the waiters.’ 

‘Sergeant, let them pay their bill,’ said Captain Tartar, in 
a more subdued tone— taking his hat and sword and walking 
out of the room. 

‘By heavens. Easy, what have you done ? — you will be tried 
by a court-martial, and turned out of the service.’ 

‘I hope so,’ replied Jack; ‘I was a fool to come into it. 
But he called me a swindler, and I would give the same 
answer to-morrow.’ 

‘If you are ready, gentlemen,’ said the sergeant, who had 
been long enough with Captain Tartar to be aware that to 
be punished by him was no proof of fault having been com- 
mitted. 

‘I will go and pack up our things. Easy, while you pay 
the bill,’ said Gascoigne. ‘Marine, you had better come with 
me.’ 

In less than half-an-hour, our hero and his comrade, instead 
of finding themselves at the Marquesa’s ball, found them- 
selves very comfortably in irons under the half-deck of H.M. 
frigate Aurora. 

We shall leave them and return to Captain Tartar, who 
had proceeded to the ball, to which he had been invited. On 
his entering he was accosted by Don Martin and Don Philip, 
who inquired what had become of our hero and his friend. 
Captain Tartar, who was in no very good humour, replied 
briskly ‘that they were on board his ship in irons.’ 

‘In irons ! for what ? exclaimed Don Philip. 

‘Because, sir, they are a couple of young scamps who have 
introduced themselves into the best company, passing them- 
selves off as people of consequence, when they are only a 
couple of midshipmen who have run away from their ship.’ 

Now the Rebieras knew very well that Jack and his friend 
were midshipmen ; but this did not appear to them any reason 
why they should not be considered as gentlemen and treated 
accordingly. 

‘Do you mean to say, signor,’ said Don Philip, ‘that you 
have accepted their hospitality, laughed, talked, walked arm- 
in-arm with them, pledged them in wine, as we have seen 

190 



Do you mean to call me a swindler, sir? 






















MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


you this evening, and after they have confided in you that 
you have put them in irons?’ 

'Yes, sir, I do,’ replied Captain Tartar. 

'Then, by heaven, you have my defiance, and you are no 
gentleman!’ replied Don Philip, the elder. 

'And I repeat my brother’s words, sir,’ cried Don Martin. 

The two brothers felt so much attachment for our hero, 
who had twice rendered such signal service to their family, 
that their anger was without bounds. 

In every other service but the English navy there is not 
that power of grossly insulting and then sheltering yourself 
under your rank ; nor is it necessary for the discipline of any 
service. To these young officers, if the pow'er did exist, the 
use of such power under such circumstances appeared mon- 
strous, and they were determined, at all events, to show to 
Captain Tartar, that in society at least it could be resented. 
They collected their friends, told them what had passed, and 
begged them to circulate it through the room. This was done, 
and Captain Tartar found himself avoided. He went up to 
the Marquesa and spoke to her— she turned her head the 
other way. He addressed a count he had been conversing with 
the night before— he turned short round upon his heel, while 
Don Philip and Don Martin walked up and down talking, so 
that he might hear what they said, and looking at him with 
eyes flashing with indignation. Captain Tartar left the ball- 
room and returned to the inn, more indignant than ever. 
When he rose the next morning he was informed that a 
gentleman wished to speak with him; he sent up his card as 
Don Ignatio Verez, colonel commanding the fourth regiment 
of infantry. On being admitted, he informed Captain Tartar 
that Don Philip de Rebiera wished to have the pleasure of 
crossing swords with him, and requested to know when it 
would be convenient for Captain Tartar to meet him. 

It was not in Captain Tartar’s nature to refuse a challenge, 
his courage was unquestionable, but he felt indignant that a 
midshipman should be the cause of his getting into such a 
scrape. He accepted the challenge, but having no knowledge 
of the small sword, refused to fight unless with pistols. To 
this the colonel raised no objections, and Captain Tartar 
despatched his coxswain with a note to his second lieutenant, 

191 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


for he was not on good terms with his first. The meeting 
took place— at the first fire the ball of Don Philip passed 
through Captain Tartar’s brain, and he instantly fell dead. 
The second lieutenant hastened on board to report the fatal 
result of the meeting, and shortly after, Don Philip and his 
brother, with many of their friends, went off in the Governor’s 
barge to condole with our hero. 

The first lieutenant, now captain pro tempore^ received them 
graciously, and listened to their remonstrances relative to 
our hero and Gascoigne. 

T have never been informed by the captain of the grounds 
of complaint against the young gentlemen,’ replied he, ‘and 
have therefore no charge to prefer against them. I shall 
therefore order them to be liberated. But, as I learn that 
they are officers belonging to one of his Majesty’s ships lying 
at Malta, I feel it my duty, as I sail immediately, to take th'em 
there and send them on board of their own ship.’ 

Jack and Gascoigne were then taken out of irons and per- 
mitted to see Don Philip, who informed them that he had 
revenged the insult, but Jack and Gascoigne did not wish to 
go on shore again after what had passed. After an hour’s 
conversation, and assurance of continued friendship, Don 
Philip, his brother, and their friends, took leave of our two 
midshipmen and rowed on shore. 

And now we must be serious. 

We do not write these novels merely to amuse, we have 
always had it in our view to instruct, and it must not be 
supposed that we have no other end in view than to make the 
reader laugh. If we were to write an elaborate work telling 
truths, and plain truths, confining ourselves only to point out 
errors and to demand reform, it would not be read ; we have 
therefore selected this light and trifling species of writing, as 
it is by many denominated, as a channel through which we 
may convey wholesome advice in a palatable shape. If we 
would point out an error, we draw a character, and although 
that character appears to weave naturally into the tale of 
fiction, it becomes as much a beacon as it is a vehicle of 
amusement. We consider this to be the true art of novel- 
writing, and that crime and folly and error can be as severely 
lashed, as virtue and morality can be upheld, by a series of 

192 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN' EASY 


amusing causes and effects, that entice the reader to take a 
medicine, which, although rendered agreeable to the palate, 
still produces the same internal benefit as if it had been 
presented to him in its crude state, in which it would either be 
refused or nauseate^. 

In our naval novels we have often pointed out the errors 
which have existed, and still do exist, in a service which is an 
honour to its country; for what institution is there on earth 
that is perfect, or into which, if it once was perfect, abuses 
will not creep? Unfortunately others have written to decry 
the service, and many have raised up their voices against our 
writings, because they felt that in exposing error we were 
exposing them. But to this we have been indifferent ; we felt 
that we were doing good, and we have continued. To prove 
that we are correct in asserting that we have done good, we 
will, out of several, state one single case. 

In the King’s Own, a captain, when requested to punish a 
man instanter for a fault committed, replied that he never has 
and never will punish a man until twenty-four hours after the 
offence, that he may not be induced by the anger of the 
moment to award a severer punishment than in his cooler 
moments he might think commensurate — and that he wished 
that the Admiralty would give out an order to that effect. 

Some time after the publication of that work, the order was 
given by the Admiralty, forbidding the punishment until a 
certain time had elapsed after the offence, and we had the 
pleasure of knowing from the First Lord of the Admiralty of 
the time, that it was in consequence of the, suggestion in the 
novel. 

If our writings had effected nothing else, we might still 
lay down our pen with pride and satisfaction ; but they have 
done more, much more, and while they have amused the 
reader, they have improved the service ; they have held up in 
their characters a mirror, in which those who have been in 
error may see their own deformity, and many hints which have 
been given have afterwards returned to the thoughts of 
those who have had influence, have been considered as their 
own ideas, and have been acted upon. The conduct of Captain 
Tartar may be considered as a libel on the service— is it not ? 
The fault of Captain Tartar was not in sending them on 

193 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


board, or even putting them in irons as deserters, although, 
under the circumstances, he might have shown more delicacy. 
The fault was in stigmatising a young man as a swindler, 
and the punishment awarded to the error is intended to point 
out the moral, that such an abuse of power should be severely 
visited. The greatest error now in our service is the dis- 
regard shown to the feelings of the junior officers in the 
language of their superiors : that an improvement has taken 
place I grant, but that it still exists, to a degree injurious to 
the service, I know too well. The articles of war, as our hero 
was informed by his captain, were equally binding on officers 
and crew ; but what a dead letter do they become if officers are 
permitted to break them with impunity! The captain of a 
ship will turn the hands up to punishment, read the article of 
war for the transgressing of which the punishment is inflicted, 
and to show at that time their high respect for the articles of 
war, the captain and every officer take off their hats. The 
moment the hands are piped down, the second article of war, 
which forbids all swearing, etc., in derogation of God’s 
honour, is immediately disregarded. We are not straitlaced, 
we care little about an oath as a mere expletive] we refer 
now to swearing at others^ to insulting their feelings grossly 
by coarse and intemperate launguage. We would never 
interfere with a man for d— g his own eyes, but we deny the 
right of his d — g those of another. 

The rank of a master in the service is above that of a mid- 
shipman, but still the midshipman is a gentleman by birth, and 
the master, generally speaking, is not. Even at this moment 
in the service, if the master were to d— n the eyes of a mid- 
shipman, and tell him that he was a liar, would there be any 
redress, or if so, would it be commensurate to the insult? If 
a midshipman were to request a court-martial, would it be 
granted ?— certainly not: and yet this is a point of more 
importance than may be conceived. Our service has been 
wonderfully improved since the peace, and those who now are 
permitted to enter it must be gentlemen. We know that even 
now there are many who cry out against this as dangerous and 
injurious to the service; as if education spoilt an officer, and 
the scion of an illustrious house would not be more careful to 
uphold an escutcheon without blemish for centuries, than one 

194 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


who has little more than brute courage; but those who argue 
thus are the very people who are injurious to the service, for 
they can have no other reason, except that they wish that the 
juniors may be tyrannised over with impunity. 

Be it remembered that these are not the observations of a 
junior officer smarting under insult— they are the result of 
deep and calm reflection. We have arrived to that grade, that, 
although we have the power to inflict, we are too high to 
receive insult, but we have not forgotten how our young blood 
has boiled when wanton, reckless, and cruel torture has been 
heaped upon our feelings, merely because, as a junior officer, 
we were not in a position to retaliate or even to reply. And 
another evil is, that this great error is disseminated. In 
observing on it, in one of our works, called Peter Simple, we 
have put the following true observation in the mouth of 
O’Brien. Peter observes, in his simple, right-minded way, 

‘I should think, O’Brien, that the very circumstance of 
having had your feelings so often wounded by such language 
when you were a junior officer would make you doubly careful 
not to use it towards others, when you had advanced in the 
service ?’ 

‘Peter, that ’s just the first feeling, which wears away after 
a time, till at last, your own sense of indignation becomes 
blunted, and becomes indifferent to it ; you forget also that you 
wound the feelings of others, and carry the habit with you, 
to the great injury and disgrace of the service.’ 

Let it not be supposed that in making these remarks we 
want to cause litigation or insubordination. On the contrary, 
we assert that this error is the cause, and eventually will be 
much more the cause, of insubordination; for as the junior 
officers who enter the service are improved so will they resist 
it. The complaint here is more against the officers, than the 
captains, whose power has been perhaps already too much 
curtailed by late regulations; that power must remain, for 
although there may be some few who are so perverted as to 
make those whom they command uncomfortable, in justice to 
the service we are proud to assert that the majority acknowl- 
edge, by their conduct, that the greatest charm attached to 
power is to be able to make so many people happy. 


195 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER XXII 

OUR HERO IS SICK WITH THE SERVICE, BUT RECOVERS WITH 
PROPER MEDICINE— AN ARGUMENT, ENDING AS MOST DO, IN 
A BLOW-UP— MESTY LECTURES UPON CRANIOLOGY 

T he day after the funeral, H. M. ship Aurora sailed for 
Malta, and on her arrival the acting captain sent our two 
midshipmen on board the Harpy without any remark, except 
‘victualled the day discharged,' as they had been borne on the 
ship’s books as supernumeraries. 

Mr. James, who was acting in the Aurora, was anxious to 
join the admiral at Toulon, and intended to sail the next day. 
He met Captain Wilson at the Governor’s table, and stated 
that Jack and Gascoigne had been put in irons by order of 
Captain Tartar; his suspicions, and the report that the duel 
had in consequence taken place; but Gascoigne and Jack had 
both agreed that they would not communicate the events of 
their cruise to anybody on board of the Aurora; and there- 
fore nothing else was known, except that they must have 
made powerful friends somehow or another; and there 
appeared in the conduct of Captain Tartar, as well as in the 
whole transaction, somewhat of a mystery. 

‘I should like to know what happened to my friend Jack, 
who fought the duel,’ said the Governor, who had laughed at 
it till he held his sides ; ‘Wilson, do bring him here to-morrow 
morning, and let us have his story.’ 

‘I am afraid of encouraging him. Sir Thomas — he is much 
too wild already. I told you of his first cruise. He has 
nothing but adventures, and they all end too favourably.’ 

‘Well, but you can send for him here and blow him up, just 
as well as in your own cabin, and then we will have the truth 
out of him.’ 

‘That you certainly will,’ replied Captain Wilson, ‘for he 
tells it plainly enough.’ 

‘Well, to oblige me, send for him— I don’t see he was much 
to blame in absconding, as it appears he thought he would be 
hung— I want to see the lad.’ 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘Well, Governor, if you wish it,’ replied Captain Wilson.- 
who wrote a note to Mr. Sawbridge, requesting he would send 
Mr. Easy to him at the Governor’s house at ten o’clock in the 
morning. 

Jack made his appearance in his uniform— he did not much 
care for what was said to him, as he was resolved to leave the 
service. He had been put in irons, and the iron had entered 
into his sold. 

Mr. Sawbridge had gone on shore about an hour before 
Jack had been sent on board, and he had remained on shore 
all the night. He did not therefore see Jack but for a few 
minutes, and thinking it his duty to say nothing to him at first 
or to express his displeasure, he merely observed to him that 
the captain would speak to him as soon as he came on board. 
As Gascoigne and our hero did not know how far it might be 
safe, even at Malta, to acknowlegde to what occurred on 
board of the speronare, which might get wind, they did not 
even tell their messmates, resolving only to confide it to the 
captain. 

When Jack was ushered into the presence of the captain, 
he found him sitting with the Governor, and the breakfast on 
the table ready for them. Jack walked in with courage, but 
respectfully. He was fond of Captain Wilson, and wished to 
show him respect. Captain Wilson addressed him, pointed 
out that he had committed a great error in fighting a duel, a 
greater error in demeaning himself by fighting the purser’s 
steward, and still greater in running away from the ship. 
Jack looked respectfully to Captain Wilson, acknowledged 
that he had done wrong, and promised to be more careful 
another time, if Captain Wilson would look over it. 

‘Captain Wilson, allow me to plead for the young gentle- 
man,’ said the Governor; ‘I am convinced that it has only 
been an error in judgment.’ 

‘Well, Mr. Easy, as you express your contrition, and the 
Governor interferes on your behalf, I shall take no more notice 
of this ; but recollect, Mr. Easy, that you have occasioned me 
a great deal of anxiety by your mad pranks, and I trust 
another time you will remember that I am too anxious for 
your welfare not to be uncomfortable when you run such 
risks. You may now go on board to your duty, and tell Mr. 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Gascoigne to do the same; and pray let us hear of no more 
duels or running away.’ 

Jack, whose heart softened at this kind treatment, did not 
venture to speak ; he made his bow, and was about to quit the 
room, when the Governor said, 

'Mr. Easy, you have not breakfasted.’ 

'I have, sir,’ replied Jack, 'before I came on shore.’ 

'But a midshipman can always eat two breakfasts, par- 
ticularly when his own comes first— so sit down and breakfast 
with us — it ’s all over now.’ 

'Even if it was not,’ replied Captain Wilson, laughing, 'I 
doubt whether it would spoil Mr. Easy’s breakfast come, 
Mr. Easy, sit down.’ 

Jack bowed, and took his chair, and proved that his 
lecture had not taken away his appetite. When breakfast 
was over. Captain Wilson observed, 

'Mr. Easy, you have generally a few adventures to speak 
of when you return, will you tell the Governor and me what 
has taken place since you left us ?’ 

'Certainly, sir,’ replied Jack; 'but I venture to request that 
it may be under the promise of secrecy, for it’s rather im- 
portant to me and Gascoigne.’ 

'Yes, if secrecy is really necessary, my boy; but I’m the 
best judge of that,’ replied the Governor. 

Jack then entered into a detail of his adventures, which 
we have already described, much to the astonishment of the 
Governor and his captain, and concluding his narration by 
stating that he wanted to leave the service; he hoped that 
Captain Wilson would discharge him and send him home. 

'Pooh, nonsense!’ said the Governor, 'you shan’t leave the 
Mediterranean while I am here. No, no; you must have 
more adventures, and come back and tell them to me. And 
recollect, my lad, that whenever you come to Malta, there is a 
bed at the Governor’s house, and a seat at his table, always 
ready for you.’ 

'You are very kind. Sir Thomas,’ replied Jack, 'but ’ 

'No buts at all, sir — you shan’t leave the service: besides, 
recollect that I can ask for leave of absence for you to go and 
see Donna Agnes — ay, and send you there too.’ 

Captain Wilson also remonstrated with our hero, and he 
198 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


gave up the point. It was harsh treatment which made him 
form the resolution, it was kindness which overcame it. 

With your permission, Captain Wilson, Mr. Easy shall 
dine with us to-day and bring Gascoigne with him ; you shall 
first scold him, and I ’ll console him with a good dinner — and, 
boy, don’t be afraid to tell your story everywhere, sit down 
and tell it at Nix Mangare stairs, if you please, — I ’m 
Governor here.’ 

Jack made his obeisance and departed. 

The lad must be treated kindly. Captain Wilson,’ said the 
Governor ; ‘he would be a loss to the service. Good heavens, 
what adventures! and how honestly he tells everything. I 
shall ask him to stay with me for the time you are here, if you 
will allow me : I want to make friends with him ; he must not 
leave the service.’ 

Captain Wilson, who felt that kindness and attention would 
be more effectual with our hero than any other measures, 
gave his consent to the Governor’s proposition. So Jack ate 
at the Governor’s table, and took lessons in Spanish and Italian 
until the Harpy had been refitted, after heaving down. Before 
she was ready a vessel arrived from the fleet, directing Captain 
Wilson to repair to Mahon, and send a transport lying there 
to procure live bullocks for the fleet. Jack did not join his 
ship very willingly, but he had promised the Governor to 
remain in the service, and he went on board the evening before 
she sailed. He had been living so well that he had, at first, a 
horror of midshipman’s fare, but a good appetite seasons 
everything, and Jack soon complained that there was not 
enough. He was delighted to see Jolliffe and Mesty after so 
long an absence; he laughed at the boatswain’s cheeks, in- 
quired after the purser’s steward’s shot-holes, shook hands 
with Gascoigne and his other messmates, gave Vigors a 
thrashing, ‘and then sat down to supper. 

‘Ah, Massa Easy, why you take a cruise without me ?’ said 
Mesty; ‘dat very shabby— by de power, but I wish I was 
there; you ab too much danger, Massa Easy, without Mesty, 
anyhow.’ 

The next day the Harpy sailed, and Jack went to his duty. 
Mr. Asper borrowed ten pounds, and our hero kept as much 
watch as he pleased, which, as watching did not please him, 

199 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


was very little. Mr. Sawbridge had long conversations with 
our hero, pointing out to him the necessity of discipline and 
obedience in the service, and that there was no such thing as 
equality, and that the rights of man secured to every one the 
property which he held in possession. ‘According to your 
ideas, Mr. Easy, a man has no more right to his wife than 
anything else, and any other man may claim her.’ Jack 
thought of Agnes, and he made matrimony an exception, as 
he continued to argue the point ; but although he argued, still 
his philosophy was almost upset at the idea of any one dis- 
puting with him the rights of man, with respect to Agnes. 

The Harpy made the African coast, the wind continued 
contrary, and they were baffled for many days; at last they 
espied a brig under the land, about sixteen miles off ; her rig 
and appearance made Captain Wilson suspect that she was a 
privateer of some description or another, but it was calm, 
and they could not approach her. Nevertheless, Captain 
Wilson thought it his duty to examine her; so at ten o’clock 
at night the boats were hoisted out : as this was merely 
intended for a reconnoitre, for there was no saying what she 
might be, Mr. Sawbridge did not go. Mr. Asper was on the 
sick-list, so Mr. Smallsole, the master, had the command of 
the expedition. Jack asked Mr. Sawbridge to let him have 
charge of one of the boats. Mr. Jolliffe and Mr. Vigors went 
in the pinnace with the master. The gunner had the charge 
of one cutter, and our hero had the command of the other. 
Jack, although not much more than seventeen, was very 
strong and tall for his age, indeed, he was a man grown, 
and shaved twice a week. His only object in going was to 
have a yarn for the Governor when he returned to Malta. 
Mesty went with him, and, as the boat shoved off, Gascoigne 
slipped in, telling Jack that he was come to take care of him, 
for which considerate kindness Jack expressed his warmest 
thanks. The orders to the master were very explicit ; he was 
to reconnoitre the vessel, and if she proved heavily armed not 
to attack, for she was embayed, and could not escape the 
Harpy as soon as there was wind. If not armed he was to 
board her, but he was to do nothing till the morning: the 
reason for sending the boats away so soon was, that the men 
might not suffer from the heat of the sun during the day-time, 

200 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


which was excessive, and had already put many men on the 
sick-list. The boats were to pull to the bottom of the bay, not to 
go so near as to be discovered, and then drop their grapnels 
till daylight. The orders were given to Mr. Smallsole in 
presence of the other officers who were appointed to the boats, 
that there might be no mistake, and the boats then shoved off. 
After a three hours’ pull, they arrived to where the brig lay 
becalmed, and as they saw no lights moving on board, they 
supposed they were not seen. They dropped their grapnels 
in about seven fathoms water, and waited for daylight. When 
Jack heard Captain Wilson’s orders that they were to lie at 
anchor till daylight, he had sent down Mesty for fishing- 
lines, as fresh fish is always agreeable in a midshipman’s 
berth : he and Gascoigne amused themselves this way, and as 
they pulled up the fish they entered into an argument, and 
Mr. Smallsole ordered them to be silent. The point which 
they discussed was relative to boat service ; Gascoigne insisted 
that the boats should all board at once — while our hero took 
it into his head that it was better they should come up one 
after another; a novel idea,- but Jack’s ideas on most points 
were singular. 

Tf you throw your whole force upon the decks at once, 
you overpower them,’ observed Gascoigne; ‘if you do not, 
you are beaten in detail.’ 

‘Very true,’ replied Jack, ‘supposing that you have an 
overpowering force, or they are not prepared; but recollect, 
that if they are, the case is altered; for instance, as to fire- 
arms— they fire theirs at the first boat, and they have not 
time to reload, when the second comes up with its fire re- 
served ; every fresh boat arriving adds to the courage of those 
who have boarded, and to the alarm of those who defend; 
the men come on fresh and fresh. Depend upon it, Gas- 
coigne, there is nothing like a corps de reserve! 

‘Will you keep silence in your boat, Mr. Easy, or will you 
not ?’ cried the master ; ‘you ’re a disgrace to the service, sir.’ 

‘Thank ye, sir,’ replied Jack in a low tone. ‘I ’ve another 
bite, Ned.’ 

Jack and his comrade continued to fish in silence till the 
day broke. The mist rolled off the stagnant water, and dis- 
covered the brig, who, as soon as she perceived the boats, 

201 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


threw out the French tricolor and fired a gun of defiance. 

Mr. Smallsole was undecided; the gun fired was not a 
heavy one, and so Mr. Jolliffe remarked; the men, as usual, 
anxious for the attack, asserted the same, and Mr. Smallsole, 
afraid of retreating from the enemy and being afterwards de- 
spised by the ship’s company, ordered the boats to weigh 
their grapnels. 

‘Stop a moment, my lads,’ said Jack to his men, ‘I ’ve got 
a bite.’ The men laughed at Jack’s taking it so easy, but he 
was their pet ; and they did stop for him to pull up his fish, 
intending to pull up to the other boats and recover their loss 
of a few seconds. 

‘I ’ve hooked him now,’ said Jack ; ‘you may up with the 
grapnel while I up with the fish.’ But this delay gave the 
other boats a start of a dozen strokes of their oars, which 
was a distance not easy to be regained. 

‘They will be aboard before us, sir,’ said the coxswain. 

‘Never mind that,’ replied Jack; ‘some one must be last.’ 

‘But not the boat I am in,’ replied Gascoigne; ‘if I could 
help it.’ 

‘I tell you,’ replied Jack, ‘we shall be the corps de reserve, 
and have the honour of turning the scale in cur favour.’ 

‘Give way, my lads,’ cried Gascoigne, perceiving the other 
boats still kept their distance ahead of them, which was about 
a cable’s length. 

‘Gascoigne, I command the boat,’ said Jack, ‘and I do not 
wish my men to board without any breath in their bodies — 
that ’s a very unwise plan. A steady pull, my lads, and not 
too much exertion.’ 

‘By heavens, they ’ll take the vessel before we get along- 
side.’ 

‘Even if they should, I am right, am I not, Mesty?’ 

‘Yes, Massa Easy, you very right— suppose they take vessel 
without you, they no want you — suppose they want you, you 
come.’ And the negro, who had thrown his jacket oif, bared 
his arm, as if he intended mischief. 

The first cutter, commanded by the gunner, now gained 
upon the launch, and was three boats’ lengths ahead of her 
when she came alongside. The brig poured in her broadside 
—it was well directed, and down went the boat. 


202 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

‘Cutter's sunk/ exclaimed Gascoigne, ‘by heavens! give 
way, my men.' 

‘Now, don't you observe, that had we all three been pull- 
ing up together, the broadside would have sunk us all ?' said 
Jack, very composedly. 

‘There 's board in the launch — give way, my men, give 
way,' said Gascoigne, stamping with impatience. 

The reception was evidently warm; by the time that the 
launch had poured in her men the second cutter was close 
under the brig’s quarter— two more strokes and she was 
alongside; when of a sudden a tremendous explosion took 
place on the deck of the vessel, and bodies and fragments 
were hurled up in the air. So tremendous was the explosion, 
that the men of the second cutter, as if transfixed, simulta- 
neously stopped pulling, their eyes directed to the volumes 
of smoke which poured through the ports and hid the whole 
of the masts and rigging of the vessel. 

‘Now 's your time, my lads, give way and alongside,' cried 
our hero. 

The men, reminded by his voice, obeyed— but the impetus 
already given to the boat was sufficient. Before they could 
drop their oars in the water they grazed against the vessel's 
sides, and, following Jack, were in a few seconds on the 
quarter-deck of the vessel. A dreadful sight presented itself 
—the whole deck was black and corpses lay strewed; their 
clothes on them still burning, and among the bodies lay frag- 
ments of what once were men. 

The capstem was unshipped and turned over on its side— 
the binnacles were in remnants, and many of the ropes ignited. 
There was not one person left on deck to oppose them. 

As they afterwards learnt from some of the men who had 
saved their lives by remaining below, the French captain had 
seen the boats before they anchored, and had made every 
preparation; he had filled a large ammunition chest with 
cartridges for the guns, that they might not have to hand 
them up. The conflict between the men of the pinnace and 
the crew of the vessel was carried on near the capstern, and 
a pistol fired had accidentally communicated with the powder, 
which blew up in the very centre of the dense and desperate 
struggle. 


203 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


The first object was to draw water and extinguish the 
flames which were spreading over the vessel. As soon as 
that was accomplished, our hero went aft to the tafifrail, 
and looked for the cutter which had been sunk — 'Gascoigne, 
jump into the boat with four men — I see the cutter floats a 
quarter of a mile astern : there may be some one alive yet. 
I think now I see a head or two.^ 

Gascoigne hastened away, and soon returned with three of 
the cutter’s men; the rest had sunk, probably killed or 
wounded by the discharge of the broadside. 

‘Thank God, there’s three saved!’ said Jack, ‘for we have 
lost too many. We must now see if any of these poor fellows 
are yet alive, and clear the decks of the remnants of those 
who have been blown to pieces. I say, Ned, where should 
we have been if we had boarded with the pinnace?’ 

‘You always fall upon your feet. Easy,’ replied Gascoigne ; 
‘but that does not prove that you are right.’ 

‘I see there ’s no convincing you, Ned, you are so con- 
foundedly fond of argument. However, I ’ve no time to 
argue now— we must look to these poor fellows; some are 
still alive.’ 

Body after body was thrown through the ports, the habili- 
ments, in most cases, enabling them to distinguish whether it 
was that of a departed friend or foe. 

Jack turned round and observed Mesty with his foot on a 
head which had been blown from the trunk. 

‘What are you about, Mesty?’ 

‘Massa Easy, I look at dis, and I tink it Massa Vigors’s 
head, and den I tink dis skull of his enemy nice present make 
to little Massa Gosset ; and den I tink again, and I say, no, he 
dead and nebber thrash any more — so let him go overboard.’ 

Jack turned away, forgiving Vigors in his heart; he 
thought of the petty animosities of a midshipman’s berth, as 
he looked at the blackened portion of a body, half an hour 
before possessing intellect. 

‘Massa Easy,’ said Mesty, ‘I tink you say right, anyhow, 
when you say forgive : den, Massa Vigors,’ continued Mesty, 
taking up the head by the singed hair, and tossing it out of 
the port; ‘you really very bad man— but Ashantee forgive 
you.’ 


204 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


'Here somebody alive,’ said Gascoigne to Jack, examin- 
ing a body, the face of which was black as a cinder and not 
to be recognised, ‘and he is one of our men too, by his dress.’ 

Our hero went up to examine and to assist Gascoigne in dis- 
engaging the body from a heap of ropes and half-burnt 
tarpaulings with which it was entangled. Mesty followed, 
and looking at the lower extremities said, ‘Massa Easy, dat 
Massa Jollilfe, I know him trousers; marine tailor say he 
patch um for ever, and so old dat de thread no hold : yester- 
day he hab dis patch put in, and marine tailor say he be d— n 
if he patch any more, please nobody.’ 

Mesty was right, it was poor Jolliffe, whose face was burnt 
as black as a coal by the explosion. He had also lost three 
fingers of the left hand, but as soon as he was brought out on 
the deck he appeared to recover, and pointed to his mouth 
for water, which was instantly procured. 

‘Mesty,’ said Jack, ‘I leave you in charge of Mr. Jolliife; 
take every care of him till I can come back.’ 

The investigation was then continued, and four English 
sailors found who might be expected to recover, as well as 
about the same number of Frenchmen; the remainder of 
the bodies were then thrown overboard. The hat only of the 
master was picked up between the guns, and there were but 
eleven Frenchmen found below. 

The vessel was the Franklin, a French privateer of ten 
guns and sixty-five men, of whom eight men were away in 
prizes. The loss on the part of the vessel was forty-six killed 
and wounded. On that of the Harpy, it was five drowned 
in the cutter, and eighteen blown up belonging to the pinnace, 
out of which total of twenty-three, they had/ only Mr. Jolliffe 
and five seamen alive. 

‘The Harpy is standing in with a breeze from the offing,’ 
said Gascoigne to Easy. 

‘So much the better, for I ’m sick of this, Ned, there is 
something so horrible in it, and I wish I was on board again. 
I have just been to Jolliffe; he can speak a little; I think he 
will recover. I hope so, poor fellow; he will then obtain 
his promotion, for he is the commanding officer of all us who 
are left.’ 

‘And if he does,’ replied Gascoigne, ‘he can swear that it 
205 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


was having been blown up which spoilt his beauty— but here 
comes the Harpy, I have been looking for an English ensign 
to hoist over the French, but cannot find one, so I hoist a 
wheft over it, that will do.^ 

The Harpy was soon hove- to close to the brig, and Jack 
went on board in the cutter to report what had taken plaice. 
Captain Wilson was much vexed and grieved at the loss of 
so many men ; fresh hands were put in the cutter to man the 
pinnace, and he and Sawbridge both went on board to witness 
the horrible effects of the explosion as described by our hero. 

Jolliffe and the wounded men were taken on board, and all 
of them recovered. We have before stated how disfigured 
the countenance of poor Mr. Jolliffe had been by the small- 
pox — so severely was it burned that the whole of the counte- 
nance came off in three weeks like a mask, and every one 
declared that, seamed as it still was, Mr. Jolliffe was better- 
looking than he was before. It may be as well here to state that 
Mr. Jolliffe not only obtained his promotion, but a pension 
for his wounds, and retired from the service. He was still 
very plain, but as it was known that he had been blown up, 
the loss of his eye as well as the scars on his face were all put 
down to the same accident, and he excited interest as a gal- 
lant and maimed officer. He. married and lived contented and 
happy to a good old age. 

The Harpy proceeded with her prize to Mahon. Jack, as 
usual, obtained a great deal of credit. Whether he deserved 
it, or whether, as Gascoigne observed, he always fell upon his 
feet, the reader may decide from our narrative ; perhaps there 
was a little of both. The seamen of the Harpy, if summoned 
in a hurry, used very often to reply, ‘Stop a minute, I Ve got 
a bite'— as for Jack, he often said to himself, ‘I 've a famous 
good yarn for the Governor.' 


206 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER XXHI 


JACK GOES ON ANOTHER CRUISE— LOVE AND DIPLOMACY- 
JACK PROVES HIMSELF TOO CLEVER FOR THREE, AND UPSETS 
ALL THE ARRANGEMENTS OF THE HIGH CONTRACTING 
POWER 



FEW days after the arrival of the Harpy at Port Mahon, 


^ a cutter came in with despatches from the admiral. Cap- 
tain Wilson found that he was posted into the Aurora frigate, 
in which a vacancy had been made by the result of our hero’s 
transgressions. 

Mr. Sawbridge was raised to the rank of commander, and 
appointed to the command of the Harpy. The admiral in- 
formed Captain Wilson that he must detain the Aurora until 
the arrival of another frigate, hourly expected, and then she 
would be sent down to Mahon for him to take the command 
of her. Further, he intimated that a supply of live bullocks 
would be very agreeable, and begged that he would send to 
Tetuan immediately. 

Captain Wilson had lost so many officers that he knew not 
whom to send ; indeed, now he was no longer in command of 
the Harpy, and there was but one lieutenant, and no master 
or master’s mate. Gascoigne and Jack were the only two 
serviceable midshipmen, and he was afraid to trust them on 
any expedition in which expedition was required. 

‘What shall we do, Sawbridge? Shall we send Easy or 
Gascoigne, or both, or neither? — for if the bullocks are not 
forthcoming, the admiral will not let them off as we do.’ 

‘We must send somebody, Wilson,’ replied Captain Saw-' 
bridge, ‘and it is the custom to send two officers, as one 
receives the bullocks on board, while the other attends to the 
embarkation.’ 

‘Well then, send both, Sawbridge, but lecture them well 
first.’ 

‘I don’t think they can get into any mischief there,’ replied 
Sawbridge ; ‘and it ’s such a hole that they will be glad to get 
away from it.’ 

Easy and Gascoigne were summoned, listened very respect- 


207 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


fully to all Captain Sawbridge said, promised to conduct 
themselves with the utmost propriety, received a letter to the 
vice-consul, and were sent with their hammocks and chests in 
the cabin, on board the Eliza Ann, brig, of two hundred and 
sixteen tons, chartered by government— the master and crew 
of which were all busy forward heaving up their anchors. 

The master of the transport came aft to receive them : he 
was a short red-haired young man, with hands as broad as 
the flappers of a turtle; he was broad-faced, broad-should- 
ered, well-freckled, pug-nosed; but if not very handsome he 
was remarkably good-humoured. As soon as the chests and 
hammocks were on the deck, he told them that when he could 
get the anchor up and make sail, he would give them some 
bottled porter. Jack proposed that he should get the porter 
up, and they would drink it while he got the anchor up, as it 
would save time. 

Tt may save time mayhap, but it won ’t save porter,^ replied 
the master ; ‘however, you shall have it.* 

He called the boy, ordered him to bring up the porter, and 
then went forward. Jack made the boy bring up two chairs, 
put the porter on the companion hatch, and he and Gascoigne 
sat down. The anchor was weighed and the transport ran 
out under the fore-topsail, as they were light-handed, and 
had to secure the anchor. The transport passed within ten 
yards of the Harpy, and Captain Sawbridge, when he per- 
ceived the two midshipmen taking it so very easy, sitting in 
their chairs with their legs crossed, arms folded, and their 
porter before them, had a very great mind to order the trans- 
port to heave-to but he could spare no other officer, so he 
walked away, saying ta himself, ‘There ’ll be another yarn for 
the Governor, or I ’m mistaken.’ 

As soon as sail was made on the transport, the master, 
whose name was Hogg, came up to our hero, and asked him 
how he found the porter. Jack declared that he never could 
venture an opinion upon the first bottle — ‘so. Captain Hogg, 
we ’ll trouble you for a second’— after which they troubled 
him for a third— begged for a fourth— must drink his health 
in a fifth, and finally pointed out the propriety of making up 
the half-dozen. By this time they found themselves rather 
light-headed, so, desiring Captain Hogg to keep a sharp look- 

208 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


out and not to call them on any account whatever, they 
retired to their hammocks. 

The next morning they awoke late; the breeze was fresh 
and fair : they requested Captain Hogg not to consider the 
expense, as they would pay for all they ate and drank, and 
all hei did, into the bargain, and promised him a fit-out when 
they got to Tetuan. 

What with this promise and calling him captain, our hero 
and Gascoigne won the master’s heart, and being a very good- 
tempered fellow, they did what they pleased. Jack also tossed 
a doubloon to the men for them to drink on their arrival, and 
all the men of the transport were in a transport at Jack’s 
coming to ‘reign over them.’ It must be acknowledged that 
Jack’s reign was, for the most part of it, ‘happy and glorious.’ 
At last they arrived at Tetuan, and our Pylades and Orestes 
went on shore to call upon the vice-consul, accompanied by 
Captain Hogg. They produced their credentials and de- 
manded bullocks. The vice-consul was a very young man, 
short and thin and light-haired ; his father had held the situa- 
tion before him, and he had been appointed his successor 
because nobody else had thought the situation' worth apply- 
ing for. Nevertheless Mr. Hicks was impressed with the 
immense responsibility of his office. It was, however, a place 
of some little emolument at this moment, and Mr. Hicks had 
plenty on his hands besides his sister, who, being the only 
English lady there, set the fashion of the place, and usurped 
all the attention of the gentlemen mariners who occasionally 
came for bullocks. But Miss Hicks knew her own import- 
ance, and had successively refused three midshipmen, one 
master’s mate, and an acting purser. African bullocks were 
plentiful at Tetuan, but English ladies were scarce; moreover, 
she had a pretty little fortune of her own, to wit, three 
hundred dollars in a canvas bag, left her by her father, and 
entirely at her own disposal. Miss Hicks was very like her 
brother, except that she was more dumpling in her figure, 
with flaxen hair; her features were rather pretty, and her 
skin very fair. As soon as the preliminaries had been entered 
into, and arrangements made in a small room with bare walls 
which Mr. Hicks denominated his office, they were asked to 
walk into the parlour to be introduced to the vice-consul’s 

209 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


sister. Miss Hicks tossed her head at the two midshipmen, 
but smiled most graciously at Captain Hogg. She knew the 
relative ranks of midshipman and captain. After a short 
time she requested the honour of Captain Hogg’s company 
to dinner, and begged that he would bring his midshipmen 
with him, at which Jack and Gascoigne looked at each other 
and burst out in a laugh, and Miss Hicks was very near re- 
.scinding the latter part of her invitation. As soon as they 
were out of the house, they told the captain to go on board 
and get all ready whilst they walked round the town. Hav- 
ing peeped into every part of it, and stared at Arabs, Moors, 
and Jews, till they were tired, they proceeded to the landing- 
place, where they met the captain, who informed them that 
he had done nothing, because the men were all drunk with 
Jack’s doubloon. Jack replied that a doubloon would not 
last for ever, and that the sooner they drank it out the better. 
They then returned to the vice-consul’s, whom they requested 
to procure for them fifty dozen of fowls, twenty sheep, and 
a great many other articles, which might be obtained at the 
place; for, as Jack said, they would live well going up to 
Toulon, and if there were any of the stock left, they would 
give them to the admiral, for Jack had taken the precaution 
to put his father's philosophy once more to the proof, before 
he quitted Mahon. As Jack gave such a liberal order, and 
the vice-consul cheated him out of at least one-third of what 
he paid, Mr. Hicks thought he could do no less than offer 
beds to our midshipmen as well as to Captain Hogg; so, as 
soon as dinner was over they ordered Captain Hogg to go on 
board and bring their things on shore, which he did. As 
the time usual for transports remaining at Tetuan before they 
could be completed with bullocks was three weeks, our mid- 
shipmen decided upon staying at least so long if they could 
find anything to do, or if they could not, doing nothing was 
infinitely preferable to doing duty. So they took up their 
quarters at the vice-consul’s, sending for porter and other 
things which were not to be had but from the transport; 
and Jack, to prove that he was not a swindler, as Captain 
Tartar had called him, gave Captain Hogg a hundred dollars 
on account — for Captain Hogg had a large stock of porter 
and English luxuries, which he had brought out as a venture, 


210 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


and of which he had still a considerable portion left. As, 
therefore, our midshipmen not only were cheated by the 
vice-consul but they also supplied his table, Mr. Hicks was 
very hospitable, and everything was at their service except 
Miss Julia, who turned up her nose at a midshipman, even 
upon full pay; but she made great advances to the captain, 
who, on his part, was desperately in love: so the mate and 
the men made all ready for the bullocks. Jack and Gascoigne 
made themselves comfortable, and Captain Hogg made love, 
and thus passed the first week. 

The chamber of Easy and Gascoigne was at the top of the 
house, and finding it excessively warm, Gascoigne had 
forced his way up to the flat roof above (for the houses are 
all built in that way in most Mahomedan countries, to enable 
the occupants to enjoy the cool of the evening, and some- 
times to sleep there). Those roofs, where houses are built 
next to each other, are divided by a wall of several feet, to 
insure that privacy which the Mahomedan customs demand. 

Gascoigne had not been long up there before he heard the 
voice of a female, singing a plaintive air in a low tone, on the 
other side of the wall. Gascoigne sang well himself, and 
having a very fine ear, he was pleased with the correctness 
of the notes, although he had never heard the air before. 
He leant against the wall, smoked his cigar, and listened. It 
was repeated again and again at intervals; Gascoigne soon 
caught the notes, which sounded so clear and pure in the 
silence of the night. 

At last they ceased, and having waited another half-hour 
in vain, our midshipman returned to his bed, humming the 
air which had so pleased his ear. It haunted him during his 
sleep, and rang in his ears when he awoke, as it is well known 
any new air that pleases us will do. Before breakfast was 
ready, Gascoigne had put English words to it, and sang them 
over and over again. He inquired of the vice-consul, who 
lived in the next house, and was answered that it was an old 
Moor, who was reported to be wealthy, and to have a 
daughter, whom many of the people had asked in marriage, 
but whether for her wealth or for her beauty he could not 
tell; he had, however, heard that she was very handsome. 
Gascoigne made no further inquiries, but went out with Jack 

2II 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


and Captain Hogg, and on board to see the water got in for 
the bullocks. 

‘Where did you pick up that air, Gascoigne? it is very 
pretty, but I never heard you sing it before.' 

Gascoigne told him, and also what he had heard from Mr. 
Hicks. 

‘I 'm determined, Jack, to see that girl if I can. Hicks 
can talk Arabic fast enough; just ask him the Arabic for 
these words — “Don't be afraid — I love you — I cannot speak 
your tongue,"— and put them down on paper as they are 
pronounced.' 

Jack rallied Gascoigne upon his fancy, which could end in 
nothing. 

‘Perhaps not,' replied Gascoigne ; ‘and I should have cared 
nothing about it, if she had not sung so well. I really believe 
the way to my heart is through my ear; — however, I shall 
try to-night, and soon find if she has the feeling which I 
think she has. Now let us go back ; I 'm tired of looking at 
women in garments up to their eyes, and men in dirt up to 
their foreheads.' 

As they entered the house they heard an altercation be- 
tween Mr. and Miss Hicks. 

‘I shall never give my consent, Julia; one of those mid- 
shipmen you turn your nose up at is worth a dozen Hoggs.' 

‘Now, if we only knew the price of a hog in this country,' 
observed Easy, ‘we should be able to calculate our exact 
value, Ned.' 

‘A hog, being an unclean animal, is not ' 

‘Hush,' said Jack. 

‘Mr. Hicks,' replied Miss Julia, ‘I am mistress of myself 
and my fortune, and I shall do as I please.' 

‘Depend upon it, you shall not, Julia. I consider it my 
duty to prevent you from making an improper match ; and, 
as his Majesty's representative here, I cannot allow you to 
marry this young man.' 

‘Mercy on us!' said Gascoigne, ‘his Majesty's representa- 
tive!' 

‘I shall not ask your consent,' replied the lady. 

‘Yes, but you shall not marry without my consent. I have, 
as you know, Julia, from my situation here, as one of his 


212 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Majesty’s corps diplomatick, great power, and I shall forbid 
the banns ; in fact, it is only I who can marry you.’ 

‘Then I ’ll marry elsewhere.’ 

‘And what will you do on| board of the transport until you 
are able to be married ?’ 

‘I shall do as I think proper,’ replied the lady ; ‘and I ’ll 
thank you for none of your indelicate insinuations.’ So say- 
ing, the lady bounced out of the room into her own, and our 
midshipmen then made a noise in the passage, to intimate 
that they had come in. They found Mr. Hicks looking very 
red and vice-consular indeed, but he recovered himself: and 
Captain Hogg making his appearance, they went to dinner; 
but Miss Julia would not make her appearance, and Mr. 
Hicks was barely civil to the captain, but he was soon after- 
wards called out, and our midshipmen went into the office to 
enable the two lovers to meet. They were heard then talk- 
ing together, and after a time they said less, and their lan- 
guage was more tender. 

‘Let us see what’s going on. Jack,’ said Gascoigne; and 
they walked softly so as to perceive the two lovers, who were 
too busy to be on the look-out. 

Captain Hogg was requesting a lock of his mistress’s hair. 
The plump Julia could deny him nothing; she let fall her 
flaxen tresses, and taking out her scissors cut off a thick 
bunch from her hair behind, which she presented to the cap- 
tain; it was at least a foot and a half long and an inch in 
circumference. 

The captain took it in his immense hand and thrust it into 
his coat-pocket behind, but one thrust down to the bottom 
would not get it in, so he thrust again and again, until it was 
all coiled away like a cable in a tier. 

‘That ’s a liberal girl,’ whispered Jack ; ‘she gives by whole- 
sale what it will take some time to retail But here comes 
Mr. Hicks, let ’s give them warning ; I like Hogg, and as 
she fancies pork, she shall have it, if I can contrive to help 
them.’ 

That night Gascoigne went again on the roof, and after 
waiting some time, heard the same air repeated: he waited 
until it was concluded, and then, in a very low tone, sang it 
himself to the words he had arranged for it. For some time 

213 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


all was silent, and then the singing recommenced, but it was 
not to the same air. Gascoigne waited until the new air had 
been repeated several times, and then giving full scope to 
his fine tenor voice, sang the first air again. It echoed 
through the silence of the night air, and then he waited, but 
in vain ; the soft voice of the female was heard no more, and 
Gascoigne retired to rest. 

This continued for three or four nights, Gascoigne sing- 
ing the same airs the ensuing night that he had heard the 
preceding, until at last it appeared that the female had no 
longer any fear, but changed the airs so as to be amused 
with the repetition of them next evening. On the fifth night 
she sang the first air, and our midshipman responding, she 
then sang another, until she had sung them all, waiting each 
time for the response. The wall was not more than eight 
feet high, and Gascoigne now determined, with the assist- 
ance of J^ck, to have a sight of his unknown songstress. 
He asked Captain Hogg to bring on shore some inch line, 
and he contrived to make a ladder with three or four poles 
which were upstairs, used for drying linen. He fixed them 
against the wall without noise, all ready for the evening. 
It was a beautiful clear moonlight night, when he went up, 
accompanied by Jack. The air was again sung and repeated by 
Gascoigne, who then softly mounted the ladder, held by Jack, 
and raised his head above the wall. He perceived a young 
Moorish girl, splendidly dressed, half-lying on an ottoman, 
with her eyes fixed upon the moon, whose rays enabled him 
to observe that she was indeed beautiful. She appeared lost 
in contemplation ; and Gascoigne would have given the world 
to have divined her thoughts. Satisfied with what he had 
seen, he descended, and singing one of the airs, he then 
repeated the words, ‘Do not be afraid— I love you— I can- 
not speak your language.' He then sang another of the airs, 
and after he had finished he again repeated the words in 
Arabic; but there was no reply. He sang the third air, and 
again repeated the words, when, to his delight, he heard an 
answer in Lingua Franca. 

‘Can you speak in this tongue?' 

‘Yes,' replied Gascoigne, ‘I can, Allah be praised. Be not 
afraid— I love you ' 


214 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘I know you not; who are you? you are not of my people.’ 

‘No, but I will be anything that you wish. I am a Frank, 
and an English officer.’ 

At this reply of Gascoigne there was a pause. 

‘Am I then despised?’ said Gascoigne. 

‘No, not despised, but you are not of my people or of my 
land ; speak no more, or you will be heard.’ 

‘I obey,’ replied Gascoigne ; ‘since you wish it, but I shall 
pine till to-morrow’s moon; I go to dream of you. Allah 
protect you !’ 

‘How amazingly poetical you were in your language, Ned,’ 
said Easy, when they went down into their room. 

‘To be sure. Jack, I ’ve read the Arabian Nights. You 
never saw such eyes in your life : what a houri she is !’ 

‘Is she as handsome as Agnes, Ned?’ 

‘Twice as handsome by moonlight.’ 

‘That ’s all moonshine, and so will be your courting, for 
it will come to nothing.’ 

‘Not if I can help it.’ 

‘Why, Gascoigne, what would you do with a wife?’ 

‘Just exactly what you would do. Jack.’ 

‘I mean, my dear Ned, can you afford to marry?’ 

‘Not while the old governor lives, but I know he has some 
money in the funds. He told me one day that I could not 
expect more than three thousand pounds. You know I have 
sisters.’ 

‘And before you come into that you ’ll have three thousand 
children.’ 

‘That ’s a large family. Jack,’ replied Gascoigne, bursting 
out into laughter, in which our hero joined. 

‘Well, you know I only wanted to argue the point with 
you.’ 

‘I know that. Jack, but I think we are counting aur 
chickens before they are hatched, which is foolish.’ 

‘In every other case except when we venture upon matri- 
mony.’ 

‘Why, Jack, you ’re becoming quite sensible.’ 

‘My wisdom is for my friends, my folly for myself. Good- 
night.’ 

But Jack did not go to sleep. ‘I must not allow Gascoigne 

215 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

to do such a foolish thing/ thought he — 'marry a dark girl 
on midshipman’s pay, if he succeeds, — get his throat cut if 
he does not. As Jack said, his wisdom was for his friends, and 
he was so generous that he reserved none for his own occa- 
sions. 

Miss Julia Hicks, as we before observed, set the fashions 
at Tetuan, and her style of dress was not unbecoming The 
Moorish women wore large veils, or they may be called 
what you will; for their head-dresses descend to their heels 
at times, and cover the whole body, leaving an eye to peep 
with, and hiding everything else. Now Miss Hicks found 
this much more convenient than the bonnet, as she might walk 
out in the heat of the sun without burning her fair skin, and 
stare at everybody and everything without being stared at 
in return. She therefore never went out without one of 
these overalls, composed of several yards of fine muslin. 
Her dress in the house was usually of coloured sarcenet, 
for a small vessel came into the port one day during her 
father’s lifetime, unloaded a great quantity of bales of goods 
with English marks; and as the vessel had gone out in bal- 
last, there was a surmise on his part by what means they 
came into the captain’s possession. He therefore cited the 
captain up to the governor, but the affair was amicably 
arranged by the vice-consul receiving about one quarter of the 
cargo in bales of silks and muslins. Miss Hicks had there- 
fore all her dresses of blue, green, and yellow sarcenet, which, 
with the white muslin overall, made her as conspicuous as the 
only Frankish lady in the town had a right to be, and there 
was not a dog which barked in Tetuan which did not know 
the sister of the vice-consul, although few had seen her face. 

Now it occurred to Jack, as Gascoigne was determined to 
carry on his amour, that in case of surprise it would be as 
well if he dressed himself as Miss Hicks. He proposed it 
to Gascoigne the next morning, who approved of the idea,* 
and in the course of the day, when Miss Hicks was busy 
with Captain Hogg, he contrived to abstract one of her 
dresses and muslin overalls — which he could do in safety, 
as there were plenty of them, for Miss Hicks was not troubled 
with mantuamaker’s bills. 

When Gascoigne went up on the roof the ensuihg night, 
216 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


he put on the apparel of Miss Hicks, and looked very like 
her as far as figure went, although a little taller. He 
waited for the Moorish girl to sing, but she did not— so he 
crept up the ladder and looked over the wall— when he 
observed that she was reclining, as before, in deep thought. 
His head covered with the muslin caught her eye, and she 
gave a faint scream. 

‘Fear not, lady,’ said Gascoigne, ‘it is not the first time 
that I have beheld that sweet face. I sigh for a companion. 
What would I not give to be sitting by your side? I am 
not of* your creed, ’tis true — but does it therefore follow that 
we should not love each other ?’ 

The Moorish girl was about to reply, when Gascoigne 
received an answer from a quarter whence he little expected 
it. It was from the Moor himself, who, hearing his daughter 
scream, had come swiftly up to the roof. 

‘Does the Frankish lily wish to mingle her perfumes with 
the dark violet?’ said he, for he had often seen the sister of 
the vice-consul, and he imagined it was she who had come on 
the roof and ascended the wall to speak with his daughter. 

Gascoigne had presence of mind to avail himself of this 
fortunate mistake. 

‘I am alone, worthy Moor,’ replied he, pulling the muslin 
more over his face, ‘and I pine for a companion. I have 
been charmed by the nightingale on the roof of your dwell- 
ing ; but I thought not to meet the face of a man, when I took 
courage to climb this ladder.’ 

‘If the Frankish lily will have courage to descend she can 
sit by the side of the dark violet.’ 

Gascoigne thought it advisable to make no reply. 

‘Fear not,’ said the old Moor; ‘what is an old man but a 
woman?’ and the Moor brought a ladder, which he placed 
against the wall. 

After a pause, Gascoigne said, ‘It is my fate ;’ and he then 
descended, and was led by the Moor to the mattress upon 
which his daughter reclined. The Moor then took his seat 
near them, and they entered into conversation. Gascoigne 
knew quite enough of the vice-consul and his sister to play 
his part — and he thought proper to tell the Moor that her 
brother wished to give her as a wife to the captain of the ship, 

217 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


whom she abhorred, and would take her to a cold and foggy cli- 
mate; that she had been born here, and wished to live and 
die here, and would prefer passing her life in his women’s 
apartments, to leaving this country. At which Abdel Faza, 
for such was his name, felt very amorous ; he put his hands 
to his forehead, salaamed, and told Gascoigne that his zenana, 
and all that were in it, were hers as well as his house and him- 
self. After an hour’s conversation, in which Azar, his 
daughter, did not join, the old Moor asked Gascoigne to 
descend into the women’s apartment — and observing his 
daughter’s silence, said to her — 

‘Azar, you are angry that this Frankish houri should come 
to the apartments of which you have hitherto been sole 
mistress. Fear not, you will soon be another’s, for Osman Ali 
has asked thee for his wife, and I have listened to his request.’ 

Now Osman Ali was as old as her father, and Azar hated 
him. She offered her hand tremblingly, and led Gascoigne 
into the zenana. The Moor attended them to the threshold, 
bowed, and left them. 

That Gascoigne had time to press his suit, and that he did 
not lose such a golden opportunity may easily be imagined, 
and her father’s communication relative to Osman Ali very 
much assisted our midshipman’s cause. 

He left the zenana, like most midshipmen in love, that is, 
a little above quicksilver boiling heat. Jack, who had re- 
mained in a state of some suspense all this time, was not 
sorry to hear voices in an amicable tone, and in a few minutes 
afterwards he perceived that Gascoigne was ascending the 
ladder. It occurred to our hero that it was perhaps advisable 
that he should not be seen, as the Moor, in his gallantry, 
might come up the ladder with the supposed lady. He was 
right, for Abdel Faza not only followed her up the ladder on 
his side, but assisted her to descend on the other, and with 
great ceremony took his leave. 

Gascoigne hastened to Jack, who had been peeping, and 
gave him a detail of what had passed, describing Azar as the 
most beautiful, fascinating, and fond creature that ever was 
created. After half an hour’s relation, he stopped short 
because he discovered that Jack was fast asleep. 

The visits of Gascoigne were repeated every night; old 
218 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Abdel Faza became every time more gallant, and our midship- 
man was under the necessity of assuming a virtue if he had it 
not. He pretended to be very modest. 

In the meantime, Captain Hogg continued his attentions to 
the real Miss Hicks; the mate proceeded to get the bullocks 
on board, and as more than three weeks had already passed 
away, it was time to think of departing for Toulon; but 
Captain Hogg was too much in love, and as for Gascoigne, 
he intended, like all midshipmen in love, to give up the service. 
Jack reasoned with the captain, who appeared to listen to 
reason, because Miss Hicks had agreed to follow his fortunes, 
and crown his transports in the transport Eliza Ann. He 
therefore proposed that they should get away as fast as they 
could, and as soon as they had weighed the anchor, he would 
come on shore, take off Miss Hicks, and make all sail for 
Toulon. 

Jack might have suffered this; the difficulty was with 
Gascoigne, who would not hear of going away without his 
lovely Azar. At last Jack planned a scheme which he thought 
would succeed, and which would be a good joke to tell the 
Governor. He therefore appeared to consent to Gascoigne’s 
carrying off his little Moor, and they canvassed how it was to 
be managed. Jack then told Gascoigne that he had hit upon 
a plan which would succeed. T find,’ said he, 'from Captain 
Hogg, that he has an intention of carrying off Miss Hicks, 
and when I sounded him as to his having a lady with him, he 
objected to it immediately, saying that he must have all the 
cabin to himself and his intended. Now, in the first place, I 
have no notion of giving up the cabin to Miss Hicks or Mrs. 
Hogg. It will be very uncomfortable to be shut out because 
he wishes to make love; I therefore am determined that he 
shall not take off Miss Hicks. He has proposed to me that 
he shall go on board, and get the brig under weigh, leaving 
me with a boat on shore to sign the vouchers, and that Miss 
Hicks shall slip into the boat when I go off at dusk. Now I 
will not bring off Miss Hicks : if he wants to marry her, let 
him do it when I am not on board. I have paid for every- 
thing, and I consider the cabin as mine. 

‘Look you, Ned, if you wish to carry off your little Moor 
there is but one way, and that is a very simple one : leave her 

219 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


a dress of Miss Hicks’s when you go there to-morrow night, 
and tell her to slip down at dusk, and come out of the house : 
all the danger will be in her own house, for as soon as she is 
out she will be supposed to be the vice-consul’s sister, and will 
not be observed or questioned. I will look out for, and bring 
her on board instead of Miss Hicks. Hogg will have the brig 
under weigh, and will be too happy to make all sail, and she 
shall lock the cabin inside, so that the mistake shall not be 
discovered till the next morning, and we shall have a good 
laugh at Captain Hogg.’ 

Gascoigne pronounced that Jack’s scheme was capital, and 
agreed to it, thanking him and declaring that he was the best 
friend that he ever had. 'So I will be,’ thought Jack, 'but 
you will not acknowledge it at first.’ Jack then went to 
Captain Hogg and appeared to enter warmly into his views, 
but told him that Hicks suspected what was going on, and had 
told him so, at the same time declaring that he would not lose 
sight of his sister until after Hogg was on board. 

'Now,’ says Jack, 'you know you cannot do the thing by 
main force, so the best plan will be for you to go on board and 
get under weigh, leaving me to bring off Miss Hicks, when 
her brother will imagine all danger to be over.’ 

'Many thanks, Mr. Easy,’ replied Captain Hogg; it will 
be capital, and I ’ll arrange it all with my Julia. How very 
kind of you !’ 

'But, Hogg, will you promise me secrecy?’ 

'Yes,’ replied the captain. 

'That Gascoigne is a very silly fellow, and wants to run 
away with a girl he has made acquaintance with here; and 
what do you think he has proposed? that after the ship is 
under weigh, I shall carry her off in the boat; and he has 
borrowed one of the dresses of Miss Hicks, that it may appear 
to be her. I have agreed to it, but as I am determined that 
he shall not commit such a folly, I shall bring off Miss Hicks 
instead; and observe, Hogg, he is that sort of wild fellow, 
that if he was to find that I had cheated him, he would im- 
mediately go on shore and be left behind ; therefore we must 
hand Miss Hicks down in the cabin, and she will lock the 
door all night, so that he may not observe the trick till the 
next morning, and then we shall have a fine laugh at him.’ 

220 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Captain Hogg replied it would be an excellent joke, as 
Gascoigne did before him. 

Now it must be observed that the water and the bullocks, 
and the sheep and fowls, were all on board; and Mr. Hicks, 
having received his money from Jack, had very much altered 
his manner ; he was barely civil, for as he had got all he could 
out of our hero, he was anxious to get rid of him as well as of 
Captain Hogg. Our hero was very indignant at this, but as 
it would not suit his present views, pretended not to notice it 
— on the contrary, he professed the warmest friendship for the 
vice-consul, and took an opportunity of saying that he could 
not return his kindness in a better way than by informing 
him of the plot which had been arranged. He then told him 
of the intended escape of his sister, and that he was the 
person intended to bring her off. 

'Infamous, by heavens !’ cried the vice-consul ; 'I shall write 
to the Foreign Office on the subject.’ 

'I think,’ said Jack, 'it will be much better to do what I 
shall propose, which will end in a hearty laugh, and to the 
confusion of Captain Hogg. Do you dress yourself in your 
sister’s clothes, and I will bring you off instead of her. Let 
him imagine that he has your sister secure; I will hand you 
down to the cabin, and do you lock yourself in. He cannot 
sail without my orders, and I will not sign the vouchers. The 
next morning we will open the cabin door and have a good 
laugh at him. Desire your boat to be off at daylight to taxe 
you on shore, and I will then make him proceed to Toulon 
forthwith. It will be a capital joke.’ 

So thought the vice-consul, as well as Gascoigne and 
Captain Hogg. He shook hands with Jack, and was as civil 
to him as before. 

That night Gascoigne left one of Miss Hicks’s many 
dresses with Azar, who agreed to follow his fortunes, and who. 
packed up all the jewels and money she could lay her hands 
upon. Poor little child, she trembled with fear and delight. 
Miss Hicks smuggled, as she thought, a box of clothes on 
board, and in the box was her fortune of three hundred 
dollars. Mr. Hicks laughed in his sleeve, so did Jack; and 
every one went to bed with expectations that their wishes 
would be realised. After an early dinner Captain Hogg and 


221 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

Gascoigne went on board, both squeezing Jack’s hand as if 
they were never to see him again, and looks of intelligence 
passed between all the parties. 

As soon as they were out of the door the vice-consul 
chuckled, and Miss Hicks, who thought he chuckled at the 
idea of having rid himself of Captain Hogg, chuckled still 
more as she looked at our hero, who >vas her confidant; and 
our hero, for reasons known to the reader, chuckled more than 
either of them. 

A little before dark the boat was sent on shore from the 
brig, which was now under weigh, and Mr. Hicks, as had 
been agreed, said that he should go into the office and prepare 
the vouchers — that is, put on his sister’s clothes. Miss Hicks 
immediately rose, and wishing our hero a pleasant voyage, as 
had been agreed, said that she should retire for the night, as 
she had a bad headache— she wished her brother good-night, 
and went into her room to wait another hour, when our hero, 
having shoved off the boat to deceive the vice-consul, was to 
return, meet her in the garden, and take her off to the brig. 
Our hero then went into the office and assisted the vice-consul, 
who took off all his own clothes and tied them up in a 
handkerchief, intending to resume them after he had gone into 
the cabin. 

As soon as he was ready. Jack carried his bundle and led 
the supposed Miss Hicks down to the boat. They shoved off* 
in a great hurry, and Jack took an opportunity of dropping 
Mr. Hicks’s bundle overboard. As soon as they arrived along- 
side, Mr. Hicks ascended and was handed by Jack down into 
the cabin : he squeezed Jack’s hand as he entered, saying in a 
whisper, ‘To-morrow morning what a laugh we shall have!’ 
and then he locked the door. In the meantime the boat was 
hooked on and hoisted up, and Jack took the precaution to 
have the dead lights lowered that Mr. Hicks might not be able 
to ascertain what was going on. Gascoigne came up to our 
hero and squeezed his hand. 

‘I ’m so much obliged to you. Jack. I say, to-morrow 
morning what a laugh we shall have !’ 

As soon as the boat was up, and the mainyard filled. 
Captain Hogg also came up to our hero, shaking him by the 
hand and thanking him ; and he too concluded by saying, ‘I 

222 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


say, Mr. Easy, to-morrow morning what a laugh we shall 
have !’ 

'Let those laugh who win,’ thought Jack. 

The wind was fair, the watch was set, the course was 
steered, and all went down to their hammocks, and went to 
sleep, waiting for to-morrow morning. Mr. Hicks, also, 
having nothing better to do, went to sleep, and by the morning 
dawn, the transport Eliza Ann was more than a hundred miles 
from the African shore. 


CHAPTER XXIV 

OUR HERO PLAYS THE VERY DEVIL 

W E must leave the reader to imagine the effect of the 
next morning’s denouement. Every one was in a 
fury except Jack, who did nothing but laugh. The captain 
wanted to return to obtain Miss Hicks, Gascoigne to obtain 
Azar, and the vice-consul to obtain his liberty — but the wind 
was foul for their return, and Jack soon gained the captain on 
his side. He pointed out to him that, in the first place, if he 
presumed to return, he would forfeit his charter bond; in the 
second, he would have to pay for all the bullocks which died ; 
in the third, that if he wished to take Miss Hicks as his wife, 
he must not first injure her character by having her on board 
before the solemnity ; and lastly, that he could always go and 
marry her whenever he pleased : the brother could not prevent 
him. All this was very good advice, and the captain became 
quite calm and rational, and set his studding-sails below and 
aloft. 

As for Gascoigne, it was no use reasoning with him, so it 
was agreed that he should have satisfaction as soon as they 
could get on shore again. Mr. Hicks was the most violent; 
he insisted that the vessel should return, while both Jack and 
the captain refused, although he threatened them with the 
whole Foreign Office. He insisted upon having his clothes, 
but Jack replied that they had tumbled overboard as they 
pulled from the shore. He then commanded the mate and 

223 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


men to take the vessel back, but they laughed at him and his 
woman’s clothes. 'At all events, I ’ll have you turned out 
of the service,’ said he to our hero in his fury. ‘I shall be 
extremely obliged to you,’ said Jack— and Captain Hogg was 
so much amused with the vice-consul’s appearance in his 
sister’s clothes, that he quite forgot his own disappointment 
in laughing at his intended brother-in-law. He made friends 
again with Jack, who regained his ascendency, and ordered 
out the porter on the capstern-head. They had an excellent 
dinner, but Mr. Hicks refused to join them, which however* 
did not spoil the appetite of Jack or the captain ; as for 
Gascoigne, he could not eat a mouthful, but he drank to 
excess, looking over the rim of his tumbler, as if he could 
devour our hero, who only laughed the more. Mr. Hicks had 
applied to the men to lend him some clothes, but Jack had 
foreseen that, and he was omnipotent. There was not a jacket 
or a pair of trousers to be had for love or money. Mr. Hicks 
then considered it advisable to lower his tone, and he applied 
to Captain Hogg, who begged to be excused without he con- 
sented to his marriage with his sister, to which Mr. Hicks 
gave an indignant negative. He then applied to Gascoigne, 
who told him in a very surly tone to go to h — 11. At last he 
applied to our hero, who laughed, and said that he would see 
him d — d first. So Mr. Hicks sat down in his petticoats and 
vowed revenge. Gascoigne, who had 'drunk much and eaten 
nothing, turned in and went to sleep — while Captain Hogg 
and our hero drank porter on the capstern. Thus passed the 
first day, and the wind was famously fair — the bullocks lowed, 
the cocks crew, the sheep baa ’d, and the Eliza Ann made 
upwards of two hundred miles. Jack took possession of the 
other berth in the cabin, and his Majesty’s representative was 
obliged to lie down in his petticoats upon a topsail which lay 
between decks, with a bullock on each side of him, which 
every now and then made a dart at him with their horns, as 
if they knew that it was to him that they were indebted for 
their embarkation and being destined to drive the scurvy out 
of the Toulon fleet. 

We cannot enter into the details of the passage, which, as 
the wind was fair, was accomplished in ten days without the 
loss of a bullock. During this time Mr. Hicks condescended 

224 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


to eat without speaking, imagining that the hour of retribution 
would come when they joined the admiral. Gascoigne gradu- 
ally recovered himself, but did not speak to our hero, who 
continued to laugh and drink porter. On the eleventh morning 
they were in the midst of the Toulon fleet, and Mr. Hicks 
smiled exultingly as he passed our hero in his petticoats, and 
wondered that Jack showed no signs of trepidation. 

The fleet hove to. Jack ran under the admiral’s stern, 
lowered down his boat and went on board, showed his 
credentials, and reported his bullocks. The general signal 
was made, there was a fair division of the spoil, and then 
the admiral asked our hero whether the master of the trans- 
port had any other stock on board. Jack replied that he had 
not ; but that having been told by the Governor of Malta that 
they might be acceptable, he had brought a few sheep and 
some dozen of fowls, which were much at his service, if he 
would accept of them. The admiral was much obliged to the 
Governor, and also to Jack, for thinking of him, but would 
not, of course, accept of the stock without paying for them. 
He requested him to send all of them on board that he could 
spare, and then asked Jack to dine with him, for Jack had 
put on his best attire, and looked very much of a gentleman. 

‘Mr. Easy,’ said the flag-captain, who had been looking 
at the transport with his glass, ‘is that the master’s wife on 
board?’ 

‘No, sir,’ replied Jack; ‘it’s the vice-consul.’ 

‘What, in petticoats ! the vice-consul ?’ 

‘Yes, the vice-consul of Tetuan. He came on board in that 
dress when the brig was under weigh, and I considered it my 
duty not to delay, being aware how very important it was 
that the fleet should be provided with fresh beef.’ 

‘What is all this, Mr. Easy?’ said the admiral; ‘there has 
been some trick here. You will oblige me by coming into the 
cabin.’ 

Easy followed the admiral and flag-captain into the cabin, 
and then boldly told the whole story how he tricked them all. 
It was impossible for either of them to help laughing, and 
when they began to laugh it was almost as impossible to stop. 

‘Mr. Easy,’ said the admiral at last, ‘I do not altogether 
blame you ; it appears that the captain of the transport would 

225 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

have delayed sailing because he was in love— and that Mr. 
Gascoigne would have stayed behind because he was in- 
fatuated, independent of the ill-will against the English whicli 
would have been excited by the abduction of the girl. But I 
think you might have contrived to manage all that without 
putting the vice-consul in petticoats.’ 

‘I acted to the best of my judgment, sir,’ replied Jack very 
humbly. 

And altogether you have done well. Captain Malcolm, 
send a boat for the vice-consul.’ 

Mr. Hicks was too impatient to tell his wrongs to care for 
his being in his sister’s clothes : he came on board, and 
although the tittering was great, he imagined that it would 
soon be all in his favour, when it was known that he was 
a diplomatic. He told his story and waited for the decision 
of the admiral, which was to crush our hero, who stood with 
the midshipmen on the lee-side of the deck; but the admiral 
replied, ‘Mr. Hicks, in the first place, this appears to me to be a 
family affair concerning the marriage of your sister, with 
which I have nothing to do. You went on board of your own 
free will in woman’s clothes. Mr Easy’s orders were positive, 
and he obeyed them. ,It was his duty to sail as soon as the trans- 
port was ready. You may forward your complaint if you 
please, but, as a friend, I tell you that it will probably occasion 
your dismissal, for these kind of pranks are not understood at 
the 'Foreign Office. You may return to the transport, which 
after she has touched at Mahon, will proceed again to Tetuan. 
The boat is alongside, sir.’ 

Mr. Hicks, astonished at the want of respect paid to a vice- 
consul, shoved his petticoats between his legs and went 
down the side amidst the laughter of the whole of the ship’s 
company. Our hero dined with the admiral, and was well 
received. He got his orders to sail that night for Minorca, 
and as soon as dinner was over he returned on board, where 
he found Captain Hogg very busy selling his porter— Gas- 
coigne walked the deck in a brown study — and Mr. Hicks solus 
abaft, sulking in his petticoats. 

As soon as they were clear of the boats the Eliza Ann 
hoisted her ensign and made sail, and as all the porter was 
not yet sold, Jack ordered up a bottle. 

226 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Jack was much pleased with the result of his explanation 
with the admiral, and he felt that for once he had not only got 
into no scrape himself, but that he had prevented others. 
Gascoigne walked the deck gloomily; the fact was that he 
was very unhappy; he had had time to reflect, and now that 
the first violence had subsided, he felt that our hero had done 
him a real service, and had prevented him from committing 
an act of egregious folly; and yet he had summoned this 
friend to meet him in the field — and such had been his 
gratitude. He would have given the world to recall what had 
passed and to make friends, but he felt ashamed, as most 
people do, to acknowledge his error ; he had, however, almost 
made up his mind to it, and was walking up and down think- 
ing in what manner he might contrive it, when Jack, who was 
sitting as usual in a chair by the capstern with his porter by 
him, said to himself, ‘Now, I dl lay my life that Ned wants to 
make friends and is ashamed to speak first; I may be mis- 
taken, and he may fly oflf at a tangent, but even if I am, at all 
events it will not be I who am wrong— I ’ll try him.’ Jack 
waited till Gascoigne passed him again, and then said, looking 
kindly and knowingly in his face, 

‘I say, Ned, will you have a glass of porter?’ 

Gascoigne smiled, and Jack held out his hand ; the reconcilia- 
tion was effected in a moment, and the subject of quarrel 
was not canvassed by either party. 

‘We shall be at Minorca in a day or two,’ replied Jack 
after a while ; ‘now I shall be glad to get there. Do you know, 
Ned, that I feel very much satisfied with myself ; I have got 
into no scrape this time, and I shall, notwithstanding, have a 
good story to tell the Governor when I go to Malta.’ 

‘Partly at my expense,’ replied Gascoigne. 

‘Why, you will figure a little in it, but others will figure 
much more.’ 

‘I wonder what has become of that poor girl,’ observed 
Gascoigne, who could not refrain from mentioning her , ‘what 
hurts me most is, that she must think me such a brute.’ 

‘No doubt of that, Ned,— take another glass of porter.’ 

‘Her father gave me this large diamond.’ 

‘The old goat — sell it, and drink to his health with it.’ 

‘No, I ’ll keep it in memory of his daughter.’ 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Here Gascoigne fell into a melancholy reverie, and Jack 
thought of Agnes. 

In two days they arrived at Mahon, and found the Aurora 
already there in command of Captain Wilson. Mr. Hicks 
had persuaded Captain Hogg to furnish him with clothes. 
Jack having taken off the injunction as soon as he had quitted 
the admiral. Mr. Hicks was aware that if the admiral would 
not listen to his complaint, it was no use speaking to a captain : 
so he remained on board a pensioner upon Captain Hogg, 
and after our midshipmen quitted the transport they became 
very good friends. Mr. Hicks consented to the match, and 
Captain Hogg was made happy. As for poor Azar, she had 
wandered about until she was tired in Miss Hicks’s dress, 
and at last returned broken-hearted to her father’s and was 
admitted by Abdel Faza himself ; he imagined it was Miss 
Hicks, and was in transport — he discovered it was his 
daughter, and he was in a fury. The next day she went to the 
zenana of Osman Ali. 

When Jack reported himself he did not tell the history of 
the elopements, that he might not hurt the feelings of Gas- 
coigne. Captain Wilson was satisfied with the manner in 
which he had executed his orders, and asked him whether he 
preferred staying in the Harpy, or following him into the 
Aurora.* 

Jack hesitated. 

‘Speak frankly, Mr. Easy : if you prefer Captain Sawbridge 
to me I shall not be affronted.’ 

‘No, sir,’ replied Easy, ‘I do not prefer Captain Sawbridge 
to you ; you have both been equally kind to me, but I prefer 
you. But the fact is, sir, that I do not much like to part with 
Gascoigne, or ’ 

‘Or who?’ said the Captain, smiling. 

‘With Mesty, sir; you may think me very foolish — but 
I should not be alive at this moment, if it had not been for 
him.’ 

‘I do not consider gratitude to be foolish. Mr. Easy,’ replied 
Captain Wilson. ‘Mr. Gascoigne I intend to take with me, 
if he chooses to come, as I have a great respect for his father, 
and no fault to find with him, that is, generally speaking— but 
as for Mesty — why, he is a good man, and as you have behaved 
yourself very well, perhaps I may think of it.’ 

228 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


The next day Mesty was included among the boat’s cre^v 
taken with him by Captain Wilson, according to the regula- 
tions of the service, and appointed to the same situation under 
the master-at-arms of the Aurora. Gascoigne and our hero 
were also discharged into the frigate. 

As our hero never has shown any remarkable predilection 
for duty, the reader will not be surprised at his requesting 
from Captain Wilson a few days on shore, previous to his 
going on board of the Aurora. Captain Wilson allowed the 
same license to Gascoigne, as they had both been cooped up 
for some time on board of a transport. Our hero took up his 
quarters at the only respectable hotel in the town, and when- 
ever he could meet an officer of the Aurora he very politely 
begged the pleasure of his company to dinner. Jack’s rep- 
utation had gone before him, and the midshipmen drank 
his wine and swore he was a trump. Not that Jack was to be 
deceived, but upon the principles of equality he argued that 
it was the duty of those who could afford dinners to give 
them to those who could not. This was a sad error on Jack’s 
part, but he had not yet learnt the value of money; he was 
such a fool as to think that the only real use of it was to make 
other people happy. It must, however, be offered in his 
extenuation that he was a midshipman and a philosopher, and 
not yet eighteen. 

At last Jack had remained so long on shore, keeping open 
house, and the first lieutenant of the Aurora found the officers 
so much more anxious for leave, now that they were at little 
or no expense, that he sent him a very polite message, request- 
ing the pleasure of his company on board that evening. Jack 
returned an equally polite answer, informing the first lieu- 
tenant that not being aware that he wished to see him, he had 
promised to accompany some friends to a masquerade that 
night, but that he would not fail to pay his respects to him the 
next day. The first lieutenant admitted the excuse, and our 
hero, after having entertained half-a-dozen of the Auroras, for 
the Harpy had sailed two days before, dressed himself for the 
masquerade, which was held in a church about two miles and 
a half from Mahon. 

Jack had selected the costume of the devil, as being the 
most appropriate, and, mounting a jackass, he rode down In 
his dress to the masquerade. But, as Jack was just going in, 

229 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


he perceived a yellow carriage, with two footmen in gaudy 
liveries, draw up, and, with his usual politeness, when the 
footmen opened the door, offered his arm to hand out a fat 
old dowager covered with diamonds ; the lady looked up, and 
perceiving Jack covered with hair, with his trident and his 
horns and long tail, gave a loud scream, and would have fallen 
had it not been for Captain Wilson, who, in his full uniform, i 
was coming in and caught her in his arms : while the old lady 
thanked him, and Captain Wilson bowed. Jack hastily re- 
treated. 'I shall make no conquests to-night,' thought he, so 
he entered the church, and joined the crowd; but it was so 
dense that it was hardly possible to move, and our hero soon 
got tired of flourishing his trident, and sticking it into people, 
who wondered what the devil he meant. 

‘This is stupid work,' thought Jack, T may have more fun 
outside' : so Jack put on his cloak, left the masquerade, and 
went out in search of adventures. He walked into the open 
country about half a mile, until he came to a splendid house, 
standing in a garden of orange-trees, which he determined to 
reconnoitre. He observed that a window was open and lights 
were in the room ; and he climbed up to the window, and just 
opened the white curtain and looked in. On a bed lay an 
elderly person, evidently dying, and by the side of the bed were 
three priests, one of whom held the crucifix in his hand, 
another the censer, and a third was sitting at a table with a 
paper, pen and ink. As Jack understood Spanish, he listened, 
and heard one of the priests say, 

‘Your sins have been enormous, my son, and I cannot give 
you extreme unction or absolution unless you make some 
amends.' 

‘I have,' answered the moribund, ‘left money for ten 
thousand masses to be said for my soul.' 

‘Five hundred thousand masses are not sufficient: how 
have you gained your enormous wealth ? by usury and robbing 
the poor.' 

‘I have left a thousand dollars to be distributed among the 
poor on the day of the funeral.' 

‘One thousand dollars is nothing — you must leave all your 
property to holy church.' 

‘And my children !' replied the dying man, faintly. 

230 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


What are your children compared to your salvation? — 
reply not: either consent, or not only do I refuse you the 
consolations of the dying, but I excommunicate ’ 

'Mercy, holy father — mercy !' said the old man, in a dying 
voice. 

‘There is no mercy, you are damned for ever and ever. 
Amen: Now hear: excommunicaho te ^ 

‘Stop — stop — ^have you the paper ready ?’ 

‘ Tis here, all ready, by which you revoke all former wills, 
and endow the holy church with your property. We will read 
it, for God forbid that it should be said that the holy church 
received an involuntary gift.’ 

‘I will sign it,’ replied the dying man; ‘but my sight fails 
me; be quick, absolve me.’ And the paper was signed, with 
difficulty, as the priest supported the dying man. ‘And now 
— absolve me.’ 

‘I do absolve thee,’ replied the priest, who then went 
through the ceremony. 

‘Now this is a confoundexi rascally business,’ said Jack to 
himself; who then dropped his cloak, jumped upon the 
windowsill, opened wide the window-curtains with both hands, 
and uttered a yelling kind of ‘ha! ha! ha! ha!’ 

The priests turned round, saw the demon, as they imagined 
— dropped the paper on the table, and threw themselves with 
their faces on the floor. 

‘ Exorciso te! stammered one. 

‘Ha! ha! ha! ha!’ repeated Jack, entering the room, and 
taking up the paper, which he burnt by the flame of the candle. 
Our hero looked at the old man on the bed; his jaw had 
fallen, his eyes were turned. He was dead. Jack then gave 
one more ‘ha ! ha ! ha ! ha !’ to keep the priests in their places, 
blew, out the candles, made a spring out of the window, caught 
up his cloak, arid disappeared as fast as his legs could carry 
him. 

Jack ran until he was out of breath, and then he stopped, 
and sat down by the side of the road. It was broad moon- 
light, and Jack knew not where he was : ‘but Minorca has not 
many high-roads,’ thought Jack, ‘and I shall find my way 
home. Now, let me see, I have done some good this evening. 
I have prevented those rogues from disinheriting a family. 

231 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


I wonder who they are ; they ought to be infinitely obliged to 
me. But if the priests find me out, what shall I do? I never 
dare come on shore again— they M have me in the inquisition. 
I wonder where I am,’ said Jack, ‘I will get on that hill, and 
see if I can take a departure.’ 

The hill was formed by the road being cut perpendicularly 
almost through it, and was perhaps some twelve or fourteen 
feet high. Jack ascended it, and looked about him. 'There 
is the sea, at all events, with the full moon silvering the waves,’ 
said Jack, turning from the road, 'and here is the road; then 
that must be the way to Port Mahon. But what comes here ? 
— it ’s a carriage. Why it ’s the yellow carriage of that old 
lady with her diamonds and her two splashy footmen!’ Jack 
was watching it as it passed the road under him, when, of a 
sudden, he perceived about a dozen men rush out, and seize 
the horses’ heads, — a discharge of firearms, the coachman 
dropped off the box, and the two f.ootmen dropped from behind. 
The robbers then opened the door and were hauling out the 
fat old lady covered with diamonds. Jack thought a second — 
it occurred to him that, although he could not cope with so 
many, he might frighten them, as he had frightened one set of 
robbers already that night. The old lady had just been 
tumbled out of the carriage-door, like a large bundle of clothes 
tied up for the wash, when Jack, throwing off his cloak, and 
advancing to the edge of the precipice, with the full moon 
behind him throwing out his figure in strong relief, raised his 
trident, and just as they were raising their knives, yelled a 
most unearthly 'ha 1 ha I ha ! ha !’ The robbers looked up, and 
forgetting the masquerade, for there is a double tremor in 
guilt, screamed with fear; most of them ran away, and 
dropped after a hundred yards, others’ remained paralysed 
and insensible. Jack descended the hill, went to the assistance 
of the old lady, who had swooned, and had to put her into the 
carriage; but although our hero was very strong, this was a 
work of no small difficulty. After one or two attempts, he 
lowered down the steps, and contrived to bump her on the 
first, from the first he purchased her on to the second, and 
from the second he at last seated her at the door of the 
carriage. Jack had no time to be over-polite ; he then threw 
her back into the bottom of the carriage, her heels went up to 

232 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


the top, Jack shoved in her petticoats as fast as he could, 
for decency, and then shutting the door, seized the reins, and 
jumped upon the box. ‘I don’t know the way,’ thought Jack, 
‘but we must needs go when the devil drives; so sticking his 
trident into the horses, they set off at a rattling pace, passing 
over the bodies of the two robbers who had held the reins, and 
who both lay before him in a swoon. As soon as he had 
brought the horses into a trot, he slackened the reins, for, as 
Jack wisely argued, they will be certain to go home if I let 
them have their own way. The horses, before they arrived 
at the town, turned off, and stopped at a large country house. 
That he might not frighten the people. Jack had put on his 
cloak, and taken off his mask and head-piece, which he had 
laid beside him on the box. At the sound of the carriage- 
wheels the servants came out, when Jack, in few words, told 
them what had happened. Some of the servants ran in, and a 
young lady made her appearance, while the others were help- 
ing the old lady out of the carriage, who had recovered her 
senses, but had been so much frightened that she had re- 
mained in the posture in which Jack had put her. 

As soon as she was out, Jack descended from the coach- 
box, and entered the house. He stated to the young lady what 
had taken place, and how opportunely he had frightened away 
the robbers, just as they were about to murder her relation; 
and also suggested the propriety of sending after the servants 
who had fallen in the attack, which was immediately done by 
a strong and well-armed party collected for the occasion. 
Jack, having made his speech, made a very polite bow and 
took his leave, stating that he was an English officer belonging 
to a frigate in the harbour. He knew his way back, and in 
half-an-hour was again at the inn, and found his comrades. 
Jack thought it advisable to keep his own secret, and there- 
fore merely said that he had taken a long walk in the country ; 
and soon afterwards went to bed. 

The next morning our hero, who was always a man of his 
word, packed up his portmanteau, and paid his bill. He had 
just completed this heavy operation, when somebody wanted 
to speak to him, and a sort of half -clerical, half-legal sort of 
looking gentleman was introduced, who, with a starch face 
and prim air, said that he came to request in writing the name 

233 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


of the officer who was dressed as a devil in the masquerade 
of the night before. 

Jack looked at his interrogator, and thought of the priests 
and the inquisition. ‘No, no,’ thought he, ‘that won’t do; a 
name I mxust give, but it shall be one that you dare not meddle 
with. A midshipman you might get hold of, but it ’s more 
than the whole island dare to touch a post-captain of one of his 
Majesty’s frigates. So Jack took the paper and wrote Captain 
Henry Wilson, of his Majesty’s ship Aurora. 

The prim man made a prim bow, folded up the paper, and 
left the room. 

Jack threw the waiter half a doubloon, lighted his cigar, 
and went on board. 


CHAPTER XXV 

IN WHICH THE OLD PROVERB IS ILLUSTRATED, ^THAT YOU 
MUST NOT COUNT YOUR CHICKENS BEFORE THEY ARE 

hatched’ 

T he first lieutenant of the Aurora was a very good officer 
in many respects, but, as a midshipman, he had contracted 
the habit of putting his hands in his pockets, and could never 
keep them out, even when the ship was in a gale of wind ; and 
hands are of some use in a heavy lurch. He had more than 
once received serious injury from falling on these occasions, 
but habit was too powerful ; and, although he had once broken 
his leg by falling down the hatchway, and had moreover a 
large scar on his forehead, received from being thrown to lee- 
ward against one of the guns, he still continued the practice ; 
indeed, it was said that once, when it was necessary for him 
to go aloft, he had actually taken the two first rounds of the 
Jacob’s ladder without withdrawing them, until, losing his 
balance, he discovered that it was not quite so easy to go aloft 
with his hands in his pockets. In fact, there was no getting 
up his hands, even when all hands were turned up. He had 
another peculiarity, which was, that he had taken a peculiar 

234 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


fancy to a quack medicine called Enouy’s Universal Medicine 
for all Mankind; and Mr. Potty far was convinced in his own 
mind that the label was no libel, except from the greatness of 
its truth. In his opinion, it cured everything, and he spent 
one of his quarterly bills every year in bottles of this stuff; 
which he not only took himself every time he was unwell, but 
occasionally when quite well, to prevent his falling sick. He 
recommended it to everybody in the ship, and nothing pleased 
him so much as to give a dose of it to every one who could be 
persuaded to take it. The officers laughed at him, but it was 
generally behind his back, for he became very angry if con- 
tradicted upon this one point, upon which he certainly might 
be considered to be a little cracked. He was indefatigable 
in making proselytes to his creed, and expatiated upon the 
virtues of the medicine for an hour running, proving the truth 
of his assertions by a pamphlet, which, with his hands, he 
always carried in his trousers pocket. 

Jack reported himself when he came on board, and Mr. 
Pottyfar, who was on the quarter-deck at the time, expressed 
a hope that Mr. Easy would take his share of the duty, now 
that he had had such a spell on shore; to which Jack very 
graciously acceded, and then went down below, where he 
found Gascoigne and his new messmates, with most of whom 
he was already acquainted. 

Well, Easy,’ said Gascoigne, ‘have you had enough of the 
shore ?’ 

‘Quite,’ replied Jack, recollecting that after the events of 
the night before he was just as well on board; ‘I don’t intend 
to ask for any more leave.’ 

‘Perhaps it ’s quite as well, for Mr. Pottyfar is not very 
liberal on that score, I can tell you ; there is but one way of 
getting leave from him.’ 

‘Indeed,’ replied Jack; ‘and what is that?’ 

‘You must pretend that you are not well, take some of his 
quack medicine, and then he will allow you a run on shore to 
work it off.’ 

‘Oh! that’s it, is it? Well, then, as soon as we anchor in 
Valette, I ’ll go through a regulrr course, but not till then.’ 

‘It ought to suit you. Jack; it’s an equality medicine; 
cures one disorder just as well as the other.’ 

235 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


'Or kills— which levels all the patients. You ’re right, Gas- 
coigne, I must patronize that stuff — for more reasons than 
one. Who was that person on deck in mufti ?’ 

‘The mufti, Jack? In other words, the chaplain of the 
ship ; but he ’s a prime sailor, nevertheless.’ 

‘How ’s that ?’ 

‘Why, he was brought up on the quarter-deck, served his 
time, was acting lieutenant for two years, and then, somehow 
or another, he bore up for the church.’ 

‘Indeed — what were his reasons ?’ 

‘No one knows — ^but they say he has been unhappy ever 
since.’ 

‘Why so?’ 

‘Because he did a very foolish thing, which cannot now be 
remedied. He supposed at the time that he would make a 
good parson, and now that he has long got over his fit, he 
finds himself wholly unfit for it — he is still the officer in heart, 
and is always struggling with his natural bent, which is very 
contrary to what a parson should feel.’ 

‘Why don’t they allow parsons to be broke by a court- 
martial, and turned out of the service, or to resign their com- 
missions, like other people?’ 

‘It won’t do. Jack— they serve Heaven— there ’s a difference 
between that and serving his Majesty.’ 

‘Well, I don’t understand these things. When do we sail?’ 

‘The day after tomorrow.’ 

‘To join the fleet off Toulon?’ 

‘Yes; but I suppose we shall be driven on the Spanish 
coast going there. I never knew a man-of-war that was not.’ 

‘No; wind always blows from the south, going up the 
Mediterranean.’ 

‘Perhaps you’ll take another prize. Jack— mind you don’t 
go away without the articles of war.’ 

‘I won’t go away without Mesty, if I can help it. Oh dear, 
how abominable a midshipman’s berth is after a long run on 
shore! I positively must go on deck and look at the shore, 
if I can do nothing else.’ 

‘Why, ten minutes ago you had had enough of it !’ 

“Yes, but ten minutes here has made me feel quite sick. 
I shall go to the first lieutenant for a dose.’ 

236 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


'I say, Easy, we must both be physicked on the same day/ 

'To be sure ; but stop till we get to Malta.’ 

Jack went on deck, made acquaintance with the chaplain 
and some of the officers whom he had not known, then 
climbed up into the maintop, where he took a seat on the 
armolest, and, as he looked at the shore, thought over the 
events that had passed, until Agnes came to his memory, and 
he thought only of her. When a mid is in love, he always 
goes aloft to think of the object of his affection; why, I don’t 
know, except that his reverie is not so likely to be disturbed 
by an order from a superior officer. 

The Aurora sailed on the second day, and with a fine 
breeze, stood across, making as much northing as easting ; the 
consequence was, that one fine morning they saw the Spanish 
coast before they saw the Toulon fleet. Mr. Pottyfar took his 
hands out of his pockets, because he could not examine the 
coast through a telescope without so doing ; but this, it is said, 
was the first time that he had done so on the quarter-deck 
from the day that the ship had sailed from Port Mahon. 
Captain Wilson was also occupied with his telescope, so were 
many of the officers and midshipmen, and the men at the 
mast-heads used their eyes, but there was nothing but a few 
small fishing-boats to be seen. So they all went down to 
breakfast, as the ship was hove-to close in with the land. 

'What will Easy bet,’ said one of the midshipmen, 'that 
we don’t see a prize to-day ?’ 

'I will not bet that we do not see a vessel — but I ’ll bet you 
what you please, that we do not take one before twelve o’clock 
at night.’ 

'No, no, that won’t do— -just let the tea-pot travel over this 
way, for it ’s my forenoon watch.’ 

'It ’s a fine morning,’ observed one of the mates, of the 
name of Martin ; 'but I ’ve a notion it won’t be a fine evening.’ 

'Why not ?’ inquired another. 

'I ’ve now been eight years in the Mediterranean, and know 
something about the weather. There ’s a watery sky, and the 
wind is very steady. If we are not under double-reefed top- 
sails tonight, say I ’m no conjuror.’ 

'That you will be, all the same, if we are under bare poles,’ 
said another. 


237 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘You ’re devilish free with your tongue, my youngster. 
Easy, pull his ears for me.’ 

‘Pull them easy. Jack, then,’ said the boy, laughing. 

‘All hands make sail !’ now resounded at the hatchways. 

‘There they are, depend upon it,’ cried Gascoigne, catch- 
ing up his hat and bolting out of the berth, followed by all the 
others except Martin, who had just been relieved, and thought 
that his presence in the waist might be dispensed with for the 
short time, at least, which it took him to swallow a cup of tea. 

It was very true; a galliot and four lateen vessels had just 
made their appearance round the easternmost point, and, as 
soon as they observed the frigate, had hauled their wind. In 
a minute the Aurora was under a press of canvas, and the 
telescopes were all directed to the vessels. 

‘All deeply laden, sir,’ observed Mr. Hawkins, the chaplain ; 
‘how the topsail of the galliot is scored !’ 

‘They have a fresh breeze just now,’ observed Captain 
Wilson to the first lieutenant. 

‘Yes, sir, and it ’s coming down fast.’ 

‘Hands by the royal haulyards there.’ 

The Aurora careened with the canvas to the rapidly-in- 
creasing breeze. 

‘Top-gallant sheet and haulyards.’ 

‘Luff you may, quarter-master; luff, I tell you. A small 
pull of that weather maintop-gallant brace — that will do,’ said 
the master. 

‘Topmen, aloft there; stand by to clue up the royals — 
and, Captain Wilson, shall we take them in ? I’m afraid of 
that pole — it bends now like a coach-whip,’ said Mr. Pottyfar, 
looking up aloft, with his hands in both pockets. 

‘In royals — lower away.’ 

‘They are going about, sir,’ said the second lieutenant, Mr. 
Haswell. 

‘Look out,’ observed the chaplain, ‘it ’s coming.’ 

Again the breeze increases, and the frigate was borne down. 

‘Hands reef topsails in stays, Mr. Pottyfar.’ 

‘Ay, ay, sir— ’bout ship.’ 

The helm was put down and the topsails lowered and 
reefed in stays. 

‘Very well, my lads, very well indeed,’ said Captain Wilson. 
238 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Again the topsails were hoisted and top-gallant sheets 
home. It was a strong breeze, although the water was smooth, 
and the Aurora dashed through at the rate of eight miles an 
hour, with her weather leeches lifting. 

^Didn’t I tell you so?’ said Martin to his messmates on 
the gangway ; but there ’s more yet, my boys.’ 

‘We must take the top-gallant sails off her,’ said Captain 
Wilson, looking aloft — for the frigate now careened to her 
bearings, and the wind was increasing and squally. ‘Try 
them a little longer;’ but another squall came suddenly — the 
haulyards were lowered and the sails clewed up and furled. 

In the meantime the frigate had rapidly gained upon the 
vessels, which still carried on every stitch of canvas, making 
short tacks in-shore. The Aurora was again put about with 
her head towards them, and they were not two points on her 
weather bow. The sky, which had been clear in the morning, 
was now overcast, the sun was obscured with opaque white 
clouds, and the sea was rising fast. Another ten minutes, and 
then they were under double-reefed topsails, and the squalls 
were accompanied with heavy rain.' The frigate now dashed 
through the waves, foaming in her course and straining under 
the press of sail. The horizon was so thick that the vessels 
ahead were no longer to be seen. 

‘We shall have it, I expect,’ said Captain Wilson. 

‘Didn’t I say so?’ observed Martin to Gascoigne. ‘We 
take no prizes this day, depend upon it.’ 

‘We must have another hand to the wheel, sir, if you please,’ 
said the quarter-master, who was assisting the helmsman. 

Mr. Pottyfar, with his hands concealed as usual, stood by 
the capstern. ‘I fear, sir, we cannot carry the mainsail much 
longer.’ 

‘No,’ observed the chaplain, ‘I was thinking so.’ 

‘Captain Wilson, if you please, we are very close in,’ said 
the master ; ‘don’t you think we had better go about ?’ 

‘Yes, Mr. Jones. Hands about ship — and — yes, by 
heavens, we must ! — up mainsail.’ 

The mainsail was taken off, and the frigate appeared to be 
immediately relieved. She no longer jerked and plunged as 
before. 

‘We ’re very near the land. Captain Wilson ; thick as it is, 
239 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


I think I can make out the loom of it — shall we wear round, 
sir?’ continued the master. 

'Yes, — hands, wear ship — put the helm up.’ 

It was but just in time, for, as the frigate flew round, 
describing a circle, as she payed off before the wind, they could 
perceive the breakers lashing the precipitous coast, not two 
cables’ length from them. 

‘I had no idea we were so near,’ observed the captain, 
compressing his lips. ‘Can they see anything of those 
vessels ?’ 

‘I have not seen them this quarter of an hour, sir,’ replied 
the signal-man, protecting his glass from the rain under his 
jacket. 

‘How ’s her head now, quarter-master ?’ 

‘South-south-east, sir.’ 

The sky now assumed a different appearance — the white 
clouds had been exchanged for others dark and murky, the 
wind roared at intervals, and the rain came down in torrents. 
Captain Wilson went down into the cabin to examine the 
barometer. 

‘The barometer has risen,’ said he on his return on deck. 
‘Is the wind steady ?’ 

‘No, sir, she ’s up and off three points.’ 

‘This will end in a south-wester.’ 

The wet and heavy sails now flapped from the shifting of 
the wind. 

‘Up with the helm, quarter-master.’ 

‘Up it is— she ’s off to south-by-west.’ 

The wind lulled, the rain came down in a deluge — for a 
minute it was quite calm, and the frigate was on an even keel. 

‘Man the braces. We shall be taken back directly, depend 
upon it.’ 

The braces were hardly stretched along before this was the 
case. The wind flew round to the south-west with a loud roar, 
and it was fortunate that they were prepared — the yards were 
braced round, and the master asked the captain what course 
they were to steer. 

‘We must give it up,’ observed Captain Wilson, holding on 
by the belaying pin. ‘Shape our course for Cape Sicie, Mr. 
Jones.’ 


240 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


And the Aurora flew before the gale, under her foresail and 
topsails close reefed. The weather was now so thick that 
nothing could be observed twenty yards from the vessel ; the 
thunder pealed, and the lightning darted in every direction 
over the dark expanse. The watch was called as soon as the 
sails were trimmed, and all who could went below, wet, 
uncomfortable, and disappointed. 

‘What an old Jonah you are, Martin,’ said Gascoigne. 

‘Yes, I am,’ replied he; ‘but we have the worst to come 
yet, in my opinion. I recollect, not two hundred miles from 
where we are now, we had just such a gale in the Favourite, 
and we as nearly went down, when ’ 

At that moment a tremendous noise was heard above, a 
shock was felt throughout the whole ship, which trembled fore 
and aft as if it was about to fall into pieces ; loud shrieks were 
followed by plaintive cries, the lower deck was filled with 
smoke, and the frigate was down on her beam-ends. Without 
exchanging a word, the whole of the occupants of the berth 
flew out, and were up the hatchway, not knowing what to 
think, but convinced that some dreadful accident had taken 
place. 

On their gaining the deck it was at once explained. The 
foremast of the frigate had been struck by lightning, had been 
riven into several pieces, and had fallen over the larboard bow, 
carrying with it the main topmast and jib-boom. The jagged 
stump of the foremast was in flames and burnt brightly, not- 
withstanding the rain fell in torrents. The ship, as soon as 
the foremast and main topmast had gone overboard, broached- 
to furiously, throwing the men over the wheel and dashing 
them senseless against the carronades ; the forecastle, the fore 
part of the main deck, and even the lower deck, were spread 
with men either killed or seriously wounded, or insensible 
from the electric shock. The frigate was on her beanv-ends, 
and the sea broke furiously over her : all was dark as pitch, ex- 
cept the light from the blazing stump of the foremast, appear- 
ing like a torch held up by the wild demons of the storm, or 
when occasionally the gleaming lightning cast a momentary 
glare, threatening every moment to repeat its attack upon the 
vessel, while the deafening thunder burst almost on their de- 
voted heads. All was dismay and confusion for a minute or 

241 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


two : at last Captain Wilson, who had himself lost his sight for 
a short time, called for the carpenter and axes — they climbed 
up, that is, two or three of them, and he pointed to the mizzen- 
mast ; the master was also there, and he cut loose the axes for 
the seamen to use ; in a few minutes the mizzen-mast fell over 
the quarter, and the helm being put hard up, the frigate payed 
off and slowly righted. But the horror of the scene was not 
yet over. The boatswain, who had been on the forecastle, had 
been led below, for his vision was gone for ever. The men 
who lay scattered about had been examined, and they were 
assisting them down to the care of the surgeon, when the cry 
of ‘Fire’ issued from the lower deck. The ship had taken 
fire at the coal-hole and carpenter’s store-room, and the smoke 
that now ascended was intense. 

‘Call the drummer,’ said Captain Wilson, ‘and let him 
beat to quarters— all hands to their stations— let the pumps 
be rigged and the buckets passed along. Mr. Martin, see 
that the wounded men are taken down below. Where ’s Mr. 
Haswell ? Mr. Pottyfar, station the men to pass the water on 
by hand on the lower deck. I will go there myself. Mr. 
Jones, take charge of the ship.’ 

Pottyfar, who actually had taken his hands out of his 
pockets, hastened down to comply with the captain’s orders on 
the main deck, as Captain Wilson descended to the deck 
below. 

‘I say. Jack, this is very different from this morning,’ 
observed Gascoigne. 

‘Yes,’ replied Jack, ‘so it is ; but I say, Gascoigne, what ’s 
the best thing to do? — when the chimney ’s on fire on shore, 
they put a wet blanket over it.’ 

‘Yes,’ replied Gascoigne; but when the coal-hole’s on fire 
on board, they will not find that sufficient.’ 

‘At all events, wet blankets must be a good thing, Ned, so 
let us pull out the hammocks ; cut the lanyards and get some 
out — we can but offer them, you know, and if they do no good, 
at least it will show our zeal.’ 

‘Yes, Jack, and I think when they turn in again, those 
whose blankets you take will agree yith you that zeal makes 
the service very uncomfortable. However, I think you are 
right.’ 

242 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


The two midshipmen collected three or four hands, and in 
a very short time they had more blankets than they could 
carry — there was no trouble in wetting them, for the main 
deck was afloat — and followed by the men they had collected. 
Easy and Gascoigne went down with large bundles in their 
arms to where Captain Wilson was giving directions to the 
men. 

‘Excellent, Mr. Easy ! excellent, Mr. Gascoigne !’ said 
Captain Wilson. ‘Come, my lads, throw them over now, and 
stamp upon them well’; the men’s jackets and the captain’s 
coat had already been sacrificed to the same object. 

Easy called the other midshipmen, and they went up for a 
further supply ; but there was no occasion, the fire had been 
smothered; still the danger had been so great that the fore 
magazine had been floated. During all this, which lasted 
perhaps a quarter of an hour, the frigate had rolled gunnel 
under, and many were the accidents which occurred. At last, 
all danger from fire had ceased, and the men were ordered to 
return to their quarters, when three officers and forty-seven 
men were found absent — seven of them were dead, most of 
them were already under the care of the surgeon, but some 
were still lying in the scuppers. 

No one had been more active or more brave during this 
time of danger than Mr. Hawkins, the chaplain. He was 
everywhere, and when Captain Wilson went down to put out 
the fire he was there encouraging the men and exerting him- 
self most gallantly. He and Mesty came aft when all was 
over, one just as black as the other. The chaplain sat down 
and wrung his hands— ‘God forgive me!’ said he. ‘God 
forgive me 1’ 

‘Why so, sir?’ said Easy, who stood near; ‘I am sure you 
need not be ashamed of what you have done.’ 

‘No, no, not ashamed of what I ’ve done ; but, Mr. Easy — 
I have sworn so, sworn such oaths at the men in my haste — I, 
the chaplain! God forgive me! — I meant nothing.’ It was 
very true that Mr. Hawkins had sworn a great deal during his 
exertions, but he was at that time the quarter-deck officer and 
not the chaplain; the example to the men and his gallantry 
had been most serviceable. 

‘Indeed, sir,’ said Easy, who saw that the chaplain was in 

243 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


great tribulation, and hoped to pacify him, 'I was certainly 
not there all the time, but. I only heard you say, ‘‘God bless 
you, my men ! be smart,” and so on ; surely, that is not swear- 
ing.’ 

‘Was it that I said, Mr. Easy, are you sure? I really had 
an idea that I had d — d them all in heaps, as some of them 
deserved — no, no, not deserved. Did I really bless them — 
nothing but bless them ?’ 

‘Yes, sir,’ said Mesty, who perceived what Jack wanted; 
‘it was nothing, I assure you, but “God bless you. Captain 
Wilson ! — Bless your heart, my good men — Bless the king !” 
and so on. You do noting but shower down blessing and 
wet blanket.’ 

‘I told you so,’ said Jack. 

‘Well, Mr. Easy, you ’ve made me very happy,’ replied the 
chaplain ; ‘I was afraid it was otherwise.’ 

So indeed it was, for the chaplain had sworn like a boat- 
swain ; but, as Jack and Mesty had turned all his curses into 
blessings, the poor man gave himself absolution, and shaking 
hands with Jack, hoped he would come down into the gun- 
room and take a glass of grog ; nor did he forget Mesty, who 
received a good allowance at the gun-room door; to which 
Jack gladly consented, as the rum in the middies’ berth had 
all been exhausted after the rainy morning— but Jack was 
interrupted in his third glass, by somebody telling him the 
captain wanted to speak with Mr. Hawkins and with him. 

Jack went up, and found the captain on the quarter-deck 
with the officers. 

‘Mr. Easy,’ said .Captain Wilson, ‘I have sent for you, Mr. 
Hawkins, and Mr. Gascoigne, to thank you on the quarter- 
deck for your exertions and presence of mind on this trying 
occasion.’ Mr. Hawkins made a bow, Gascoigne said noth- 
ing, but he thought of having extra leave when they arrived at 
Malta. Jack felt inclined to make a speech, and began some- 
thing about when there was danger that it levelled every one 
to an equality even on board of a man-of-war. 

‘By no means, Mr. Easy,’ replied Captain Wilson, ‘it does 
the very contrary, for it proves which is the best man, and 
those who are the best raise themselves at once above the rest.’ 

Jack was very much inclined to argue the point, but he 
244 



Easy and Gascoigne went down with large bundles in their arms, 



i 


1 

I 



MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


took the compliment and held his tongue, which was the wisest 
thing he could have done ; so he made his bow, and was 
about to go down into the midshipmen’s berth when the 
frigate was pooped by a tremendous sea, which washed all 
those who did not hold on down into the waist. Jack was 
among the number, and naturally catching at the first object 
which touched him, he caught hold of the chaplain by the leg, 
who commenced swearing most terribly, but before he could 
finish the oath, the water, which had burst into the cabin 
through the windows — for the dead-lights, in the confusion, 
had not yet been shipped — burst out the cross bulkheads, 
sweeping like a torrent the marine, the cabin-door, and every- 
thing else in its force, and floating Jack and the chaplain with 
several others down the main hatchway on to the lower deck. 
The lower deck being also full of water, men and chests were 
rolling and tossing about, and Jack was sometimes in company 
with the chaplain, and at other times separated. At last they 
both recovered their legs, and gained the midshipmen’s berth, 
which, although afloat, was still a haven of security. Mr. 
Hawkins spluttered and spit, and so did Jack, until he began 
to laugh. 

‘This is very trying, Mr. Easy,’ said the chaplain; very 
trying indeed to the temper. I hope I have not sworn — I 
hope not.’ 

‘Not a word,’ said Jack; ‘I was close to you all the time 
—you only said, “God preserve us !” ’ 

‘Only that? I was afraid that I said “God d — n it!”’ 

‘Quite a mistake, Mr. Hawkins. Let ’s go into the gun- 
room and try to wash this salt water out of our mouths, and 
then I will tell you all you said, as far as I could hear it, word 
for word.’ 

So Jack by this means got another glass of grog, which 
was very acceptable in his wet condition, and made himself 
very comfortable, while those on deck were putting on the 
dead-lights, and very busy setting the goose- wing of the 
main-sail to prevent the frigate from being pooped a second 
time. 


245 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER XXVI 

IN WHICH OUR HERO BECOMES EXCESSIVELY UNWELL AND 
AGREES TO GO THROUGH A COURSE OF MEDICINE 

T he hammocks were not piped down that night ; some were 
taken indiscriminately for the wounded, but the rest re- 
mained in the nettings, for all hands were busy preparing 
jury-masts and jury-rigging, and Mr. Pottyfar was so well 
employed that, for twelve hours, his hands were not in his 
pockets. It was indeed a dreadful night. The waves were 
mountains high, and chased the frigate in their fury, cresting, 
breaking, and roaring at her taffrail, but she flew before them 
with the wings of the wind ; four men at the helm assisted 
by others at the relieving tackles below. Jack, having been 
thanked on and washed off the quarter-deck, thought that he 
had done quite enough; he was as deep as he could swim 
before he had satisfied all the scruples of the chaplain, and 
stowing himself away on one of the lockers of the midship- 
men’s berth, was soon fast asleep, notwithstanding that the 
frigate rolled gunnel under. Gascoigne had done much 
jbetter; he had taken down a hammock, as he said, for a 
poor wounded man, hung it up, and turned in himself. The 
consequence was, that the next morning the surgeon, who 
saw him lying in the hammock, had put him down in the 
report; but as Gascoigne had got up as well as ever, he 
laughed, and scratched his name out of the list of wounded. 

Before morning the ship had been pumped out dry, and all 
below made as secure and safe as circumstances would permit ; 
but the gale still continued its violence, and there was any- 
thing but comfort on board. 

T say, Martin, you ought to be thrown overboard,’ said 
Gascoigne ; ‘all this comes from your croaking — you ’re a 
Mother Carey’s chicken.’ 

T wish I had been any one’s chicken,’ replied Martin ; but 
the devil a thing to nestle under have I had since I can well 
remember.’ 

‘What a bore to have no galley fire lighted,’ said one of 
the youngsters, ‘no tea, and not allowed any grog.’ 

246 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘The gfale will last three days/ replied Martin, ‘and by 
that time we shall not be far from the admiral; it won’t blow 
home there.’ 

‘Well then, we shall be ordered in directly, and I shall g-o 
on shore tomorrow,’ replied Easy. 

‘Yes, if you ’re ill,’ replied Gascoigne. 

‘Never fear, I shall be sick enough: we shall be there at 
least six weeks, and then we ’ll forget all this.’ 

‘Yes,’ replied Martin, ‘we may forget it, but will the poor 
fellows whose limbs are shrivelled forget it? and will poor 
Miles, the boatswain, who is blind for ever?’ 

‘Very true, Martin, we are thinking about ourselves, not 
thankful for our escape, and not feeling for others,’ replied 
Gascoigne. 

‘Give us your hand, Ned,’ said Jack Easy. ‘And, Martin, 
we ought to thank you for telling us the truth — we are a 
selfish set of fellows.’ 

‘Still, we took our share with the others,’ replied one of 
the midshipmen. 

‘That ’s more reason for us to be grateful and to pity them,’ 
replied Jack; ‘suppose you had lost your arm or your eyesight 
— we should have pitied you; so now pity others.’ 

‘Well, so I do, now I think of it.’ 

‘Think oftener, youngster,’ observed Martin, going on deck. 

What a change from the morning of the day before! But 
twenty-four hours had passed away, and the sea had been 
smooth, the frigate dashed through the blue water, proud in 
all her canvas, graceful as a swan. Since that, there had 
been fire, tempest, lightning, disaster, danger and death; 
her masts were tossed about on the snowy waves hundreds of 
miles away from her, and she, a wreck, was rolling heavily, 
groaning and complaining in every timber as she urged her 
impetuous race with the furious-running sea. 

How wrong are those on shore who assert that sailors are 
not religious! How is it possible, supposing them to be pos- 
sessed of feeling, to be otherwise? On shore, where you have 
nothing but the change of seasons, each in its own peculiar 
beauty— nothing but the blessings of the earth, its fruit, its 
flowers — nothing but the bounty, the comforts, the luxuries 
which have been invented, where you can rise in the morning 

247 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


in peace, and lay down your head at night in security — God 
may be neglected and forgotten for a long time ; but at sea, 
when each gale is a warning, each disaster acts as a check, 
each escape as a homily upon the forbearance of Providence, 
that man must be indeed brutalized who does not feel that 
God is there. On shore we seldom view him but in all His 
beauty and kindness ; but at sea we are as often reminded 
how terrible He is in His wrath. Can it be supposed that 
the occurrences of the last twenty-four hours were lost upon 
the mind of any one man in that ship? No, no. In their 
courage and activity they might appear reckless, but in their 
hearts they acknowledged and bowed unto their God. 

Before the day was over a jury-foremast had been got up, 
and sail having been put upon it, the ship was steered with 
greater ease and safety — the main-brace had been spliced to 
cheer up the exhausted crew, and the hammocks were piped 
down. 

As Gascoigne had observed, some of the men were not 
very much pleased to find that they were minus their blankets, 
but Captain Wilson ordered their losses to be supplied by the 
purser and expended by the master. This quite altered the 
case, as they obtained new blankets in most cases for old 
ones ; but still it was impossible to light the galley fire, and 
the men sat on their chests and nibbled biscuit. By twelve 
o’clock that night the gale broke, and more sail was neces- 
sarily put on the scudding vessel, for the sea still ran fast and 
mountains high. At daylight the sun burst out and shone 
brightly on them, the sea went gradually down, the fire was 
lighted, and Mr. Pottyfar, whose hands were again in his 
pockets, at twelve o’clock gave the welcome order to pipe 
to dinner. As soon as the men had eaten their dinner, the 
frigate was once more brought to the wind, her jury-mast 
forward improved upon, and more sail made upon it. The 
next morning there was nothing of the gale left except the 
dire effects which it had produced, the black and riven stump 
of the foremast still holding up a terrific warning of the power 
and fury of the elements. 

Three days more, and the Aurora joined the Toulon fleet. 
When she was first seen it was imagined by those on board 
of the other ships that she had been in action, but they soon 

248 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


kamt that the conflict had been against more direful weapons 
than any yet invented by mortal hands. Captain Wilson 
waited upon the admiral, and of course received immediate 
orders to repair to port and refit. In a few hours the Aurora 
had shaped her course for Malta, and by sunset the Toulon 
fleet were no longer in sight. 

‘By de holy poker, Massa Easy, but that terrible sort of 
gale the other day anyhow — I tink one time we all go to 
Davy Joney’s locker." 

‘Very true, Mesty, I hope never to meet with such another." 

‘Den, Massa Easy, why you go to sea? When man ab no 
money, nothing to eat, den he go to sea; but everybody say 
you ab plenty money — why you come to sea ?" 

‘I "m sure I don"t know," replied Jack thoughtfully; ‘I 
came to sea on account of equality and the rights of man." 

‘Eh, Massa Easy, you come to wrong place anyhow; now 
I tink a good deal lately, and by all de power, I tink equality 
all stuff." 

‘All stuff, Mesty, why? you used to think otherwise." 

‘Yes, Massa Easy, but den I boil de kettle for all young 
gentlemen. Now dat I ship"s corporal and hab cane, I tink 
so no longer." 

Jack made no reply, but he thought the more. The reader 
must have perceived that Jack"s notions of equality were 
rapidly disappearing. He defended them more from habit, 
and perhaps a wilfulness which would not allow him to ac- 
knowledge himself wrong ; to which may be added his love of 
argument. Already he had accustomed himself to obedience 
of his superiors, and, notwithstanding his arguments, he 
would admit of no resistance from those below him ; not that 
it was hardly ever attempted, for Jack was anything but a 
tyrant, and was much beloved by all in the ship. Every day 
brought its lesson, and Captain Wilson was now satisfied 
that Jack had been almost cured of the effects of his father"s 
ridiculous philosophy. 

After a few minutes, Mesty tapped his cane on the funnel, 
and recommenced. 

‘Then why you stay at sea, Massa Easy?" 

‘I don"t know, Mesty; I don"t dislike it." 

‘But, Massa Easy, why you stay in midshipman berth — 
249 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


eat hard biscuit, salt pig, salt horse, when you can go ashore, 
and live like gentleman? Dat very foolish! Why not be 
your own master? By all power! suppose I had money, 
catch me board ship. Little sea very good, Massa Easy — 
open one eyes ; but tink of de lightning t’ other night : poor 
massa boatswain, he shut um eyes for ebber !' 

'Very true, Mesty.^ 

‘Me hope you tink of this, sar, and when you go on shore, 
you take Mesty wid you ; he sarve you well, Massa Easy, long 
as he live, by de holy St. Patrick. And den, Massa Easy, 
you marry wife — hab pickininny — lib like gentleman. You 
tink of this, Massa Easy.' 

The mention of the word marriage turned the thoughts of 
our hero to his Agnes, and he made no reply. Mesty walked 
away, leaving our hero in deep thought. 

This conversation had more effect upon Jack than would 
have been imagined, and he very often found he was putting 
to himself the question of Mesty — ‘Why do you stay at sea ?' 
He had not entered the service with any particular view, 
except to find equality ; and he could not but acknowledge to 
himself that, as Mesty observed, he had come to the wrong 
place. He had never even thought of staying to serve his 
time, nor had he looked forward to promotion, and one day 
commanding a ship. He had only cared for the present, 
without indulging in a future anticipation of any reward, 
except in a union with Agnes. Mesty's observations oc- 
casioned Jack to reflect upon the future for the first time in 
his life; and he was always perplexed when he put the 
question of Mesty, and tried to answer to himself as to what 
were his intentions in remaining in the service. 

Nevertheless Jack did his duty very much to the satisfac- 
tion of Mr. Pottyfar; and after a tedious passage, from 
baffling and light winds, the Aurora arrived at Malta. Our 
hero had had some conversation with his friend Gascoigne, 
in which he canvassed his future plans; all of which, how- 
ever, ended in one settled point, which was that he was to 
marry Agnes. As for the rest, Gascoigne was of opinion 
that Jack ought to follow up the service, and become a captain, 
but there was plenty of time to think about that, as he ob- 
served, now all they had to consider was how to get on shore ; 
for the refitting of the ship was an excuse for detaining them 

250 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


on board, which they knew Mr. Pottyfar would avail himself 
of. Jack dined in the gunroom on the day of their arrival, 
and he resolved that he would ask that very evening. Cap- 
tain Wilson was already on shore at the Governor’s. Now, 
there had been a little difference of opinion between Mr. 
Pottyfar and Mr. Hawkins, the chaplain, on a point of sea- 
manship ; and most of the officers sided with the chaplain, 
who, as we have before observed, was a first-rate seaman. It 
had ended in high words, for Mr. Hawkins had forgotten 
himself so far as to tell the first lieutenant that he had a great 
deal to learn, not having even got over the midshipman’s 
trick of keeping his hands in his pockets; and Mr. Pottyfar 
had replied that it was all very well for him as chaplain to in- 
sult others, knowing that his cassock protected him. This was 
a bitter reply to Mr. Hawkins, who at the very time that the in- 
sinuation made his blood boil, was also reminded that his pro- 
fession forbade a retort: he rushed into his cabin, poor 
fellow, having no other method left, vented his indignation in 
tears, and then consoled himself by degrees with prayer. In 
the meantime, Mr. Pottyfar had gone on deck, wroth with 
Hawkins and with his messmates, as well as displeased with 
himself. He was, indeed, in a humour to be pleased with no- 
body, and in a most unfortunate humour to be asked leave 
by a midshipman. Nevertheless, Jack politely took off his 
hat, and requested leave to go on shore and see his friend, the 
Governor. Upon which Mr. Pottyfar turned round to him, 
with his feet spread wide open, and thrusting his hands to 
the very bottom of his pockets, as if in determination, said, 
‘Mr. Easy, you know the state of the ship; we have every- 
thing to do — new masts— new rigging — everything almost 
to refit, and yet you ask to go on shore ! Now, sir, you may 
take this answer for yourself and all the other midshipmen 
in the ship, that not one soul of you puts his foot on shore 
until we are again all atauto.’ 

‘Allow me to observe, sir,’ said our hero, ‘that it is very 
true that all our services may be required when the duty 
commences, but this being Saturday night, and to-morrow 
Sunday, the frigate will not be even moved till Monday 
morning; and as the work cannot begin before that, I trust 
you will permit leave until that time.’ 

‘My opinion is different, sir,’ replied the first lieutenant. 

251 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Terhaps, sir, you will allow me to argue the point,’ 
replied Jack. 

'No, sir. I never allow argument; walk over to the other 
side of the deck, if you please.’ 

'Oh certainly, sir,’ said Jack, 'if you wish it.’ 

Jack’s first idea was to go on shore without leave, but from 
this he was persuaded by Gascoigne, who told him that it 
would displease Captain Wilson, and that old Tom, the 
Governor, would not receive him. Jack agreed to this, and 
then, after a flourish about the rights of man, tyranny, op- 
pression, and so forth, he walked forward to the forecastle, 
where he found his friend Mesty, who had heard all that 
had passed, and who insiduously said to him in a low tone — 

'Why you stay at sea, Massa Easy?’ 

Why, indeed, thought Jack, boiling with indignation, 'to 
be cooped up here at the will of another? I am a fool — Mesty 
is right — I ’ll ask for my discharge to-morrow.’ Jack went 
down below and told Gascoigne what he had determined 
to do. 

'You’ll do no such thing. Jack,’ replied Gascoigne; 'depend 
upon it, you’ll have plenty of leave in a day or two. Pottyfar 
was in a pet with the chaplain, who was too much for him. 
Captain Wilson will be on board by nine o’clock.’ 

Nevertheless, Jack walked his first watch in the 'magnifi- 
cents,' as all middies do when they cannot go on shore, and 
turned in at twelve o’clock, with the resolution of sticking to 
his purpose, and quitting his Majesty’s service; in fact, of 
presenting his Majesty with his between two and three years’ 
time, served as midshipman, all free, gratis and for nothing, 
except his provisions and his pay, which some captains are 
bold enough to assert that they not only are not worth, but not 
even the salt that accompanies it; forgetting that they were 
once midshipmen themselves, and at the period were, of 
course, of about the same value. 

The next morning Captain Wilson came off; the ship’s 
company were mustered, the service read by Mr. Hawkins, 
and Jack, as soon as all the official duties were over, was about 
to go up to the captain, when the captain said to him, 

'Mr. Easy, the Governor desired me to bring you on shore 
to dine with him, and he has a bed at your service.’ 

252 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

Jack touched his hat and ran down below to make his few 
preparations. 

By the time that Mesty, who had taken charge of his 
chest, etc., had put his necessaries in the boat. Jack had almost 
made up his mind that his Majesty should not be deprived yet 
awhile of so valuable an officer. Jack returned on deck, and 
found that the captain was not yet ready ; he went up to Mr. 
Pottyfar, and told him that the captain had ordered him to go 
on shore with him ; and Mr. Pottyfar, who had quite got over 
his spleen, said, 

‘Very well, Mr. Easy — I wish you a great deal of 
pleasure.’ 

This is very different from yesterday,’ thought Jack; 
‘suppose I try the medicine ?’ 

‘I am not very well, Mr. Pottyfar, and those pills of the 
doctor’s don’t agree with me — I always am ill if I am long 
without air and exercise.’ 

‘Very true,’ said the first lieutenant, ‘people require air 
and exercise. I’ve no opinion of the doctor’s remedies; the 
only thing that is worth a farthing is the universal medicine.’ 

‘I should so long to try it, sir,’ replied Jack. ‘I read the 
book one day, and it said that if you took it daily for a fort- 
night or three weeks and with plenty of air and exercise, it 
would do wonders.’ 

‘And it’s very true,’ replied Mr. Pottyfar, ‘and if you’d like 
to try it you shall — I have plenty — shall I give you a dose 
now ?’ 

‘If you please, sir,’ replied Jack; and tell me how often I 
am to take it, for my head aches all day.’ 

Mr. Pottyfar took Jack down, and putting into his hand 
three or four bottles of the preparation, told him that he was 
to take thirty drops at night, when he went to bed, not to 
drink more than two glasses of wine, and to avoid the heat of 
the sun. 

‘But, sir,’ replied Jack, who had put the bottles in his 
pocket, ‘I am afraid that I cannot take it long; for as the 
ship is ready for fitting, I shall be exposed to the sun all day.’ 

‘Yes, if you are wanted, Mr. Easy ; but we have plenty here 
without you ; and when you are unwell you cannot be expected 
to work. Take care of your health, and I trust, indeed I 

253 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


am sure, that you will find this medicine wonderfully effi- 
cacious.' 

‘I will begin to-night, sir, if you please,’ replied Jack, 'and 
I am very much obliged to you. I sleep at the Governor’s — 
shall I come on board to-morrow morning?’ 

'No, no; take care of yourself and get well; I shall be 
glad to hear that you get better. Send me word how it acts.’ 

'I will, sir, send you word by the boat every day,’ replied 
Jack, delighted; 'I am very much obliged to you, sir. Gas- 
coigne and I were thinking of asking you, but did not like to 
do so; he, poor fellow, suffers from headaches almost as bad 
as I do, and the doctor’s pills are of no use to him.’ 

'He shall have some too, Mr. Easy. I thought he looked 
pale. I’ll see to it this afternoon. Recollect, moderate exer- 
cise, Mr. Easy, and avoid the sun at mid-day.’ 

‘Yes, sir,’ replied Jack, ‘I’ll not forget’ ; and off went Jack, 
delighted. He ordered Mesty to put up his whole portmanteau 
instead of the small bundle he put into the boat, and telling 
Gascoigne what a spoke he had put into his wheel, was soon 
in the boat with the captain, and went on shore, where he was 
cordially greeted by the Governor. 


CHAPTER XXVII 

IN WHICH CAPTAIN WILSON IS REPAID WITH INTEREST FOR 
jack’s BORROWING HIS NAME : PROVING THAT A GOOD NAME 
IS AS GOOD AS A LEGACY. 

W ELL, Jack, my boy, have you any long story ready for 
me ?’ inquired the Governor. 

'Yes, sir,’ said Jack, ‘I have one or two very good ones.’ 
'Very well, we’ll hear them after dinner,’ replied old Tom. 
'In the meantime, find out your room, and take possession.’ 

'That must not be for very long. Governor,’ observed Cap- 
tain Wilson. 'Mr. Easy must learn his duty, and there is a 
good opportunity now.’ 

'If you please, sir,’ replied Jack, 'I’m on the sick-list.’ 

254 ' 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


^Sick-list/ said Captain Wilson ; ^you were not in the 
report that Mr. Wilson gave me this morning.' 

‘No, I’m on Mr. Pottyfar’s list ; and Pm going through a 
course of the universal medicine.’ 

What’s all this, Jack — what’s all this? — there’s some story 
here — don’t be afraid of the captain — you’ve me to back 
you,’ said the Governor. 

Jack was not at all afraid of the captain, so he told him 
how the first lieutenant had refused him leave the evening 
before, and how he had now given him permission to remain 
and try the universal medicine, at which the Governor 
laughed heartily, nor could Captain Wilson refrain from 
joining. 

‘But, Mr. Easy,’ replied the captain, after a pause, ‘if Mr. 
Pottyfar will allow you to stay on shore, I cannot — you have 
your duty to learn. You must be aware that now is your time, 
and you must not lose opportunities that do not occur every 
day. You must acknowledge the truth of what I say.’ 

‘Yes, sir,’ replied Jack, ‘I admit it all, provided I do intend 
to follow the profession’ ; and so saying, our hero bowed and 
left the veranda where they had been talking. 

This hint of Jack’s, thrown out by him more with the 
intention of preventing his being sent on board than with any 
definite idea, was not lost upon either the captain or the 
Governor. 

‘Does he jib then?’ observed the Governor. 

‘On the contrary, I never knew him more attentive and so 
entirely getting rid of his former notions. He has behaved 
most nobly in the gale, and there has not been one complaint 
against him — I never was more astonished— he must have 
meant something.’ 

‘I’ll tell you what he means, Wilson — that he does not like 
to be sent on board, nothing more. He’s not to be cooped 
up — you may lead him, but not drive him.’ 

‘Yes, but the service will not admit of it. I never could 
allow it — he must do his duty like the rest, and conform to 
the rules.’ 

‘Exactly, so he must; but look ye, Wilson, you must not 
lose him: it’s all easily settled— appoint him your orderly 
midshipman to and from the ship; that will be employment, 

255 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


and he can always remain here at night. I will tell him that 
I have asked, as a favour, what I now do, and leave me to find 
out what he is thinking about.’ 

‘It may be done that way, certainly,’ replied Captain 
Wilson, musing; ‘and you are more likely to get his inten- 
tions from him than I am. I am afraid he has too great a 
command of money ever to be fond of the ship ; it is the ruin 
of a junior officer to be so lavishly supplied.’ 

‘He’s a long way from ruin yet, Wilson — he’s a very fine 
fellow, even by your acknowledgment. You humoured 
him out of gratitude to his father, when he first came into the 
service ; humour him a little now to keep him in it. Besides, 
if your first lieutenant is such a fool with his universal med- 
icine, can you wonder at a midshipman taking advantage 
of it?’ 

‘No, but I ought not to allow him to do so with my eyes 
open.’ 

‘He has made it known to you upon honour, and you 
ought not to take advantage of his confidence : but still what 
I proposed would, I think, be the best, for then he will be 
at his duty in a way that will suit all parties. You, because 
you employ him on service — the first lieutenant, because Jack 
can take his medicine — and Jack, because he can dine with 
me every day.’ 

‘Well, I suppose it must be so,’ replied Captain Wilson, 
laughing ; ‘but still, I trust you will discover what is working 
in his mind to induce him to give me that answer. Governor.’ 

‘Never fear, Jack shall confess, and lay his soul as b^re 
as that of a Catholic bigot before his padre.’ 

The party sat down to dinner, and what with the Governor’s 
aide-de-camp and those invited, it was pretty numerous. 
After the cloth had been removed, the Governor called upon 
Jack for his stories, whereupon, much to the surprise of 
Captain Wilson, who had never heard one word of it, for the 
admiral had not mentioned anything about it to him during 
the short time the Aurora was with the Toulon fleet, our hero 
gave the Governor and the company the narrative of all that 
happened in the Elisa Ann transport— the loves of Captain 
Hogg and Miss Hicks — the adventures of Gascoigne — and 
his plan by which he balked them all. The Governor was 
delighted, and Captain Wilson not a little astonished. 

256 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘You prevented a very foolish thing, Mr. Easy, and be- 
haved very well,’ observed the captain, laughing again at the 
idea; but you never told me of all this.’ 

‘No, sir,’ replied Jack, ‘I have always reserved my stories 
for the Governor’s table, where I am sure to meet you and 
then telling once does for all.’ 

Jack received his appointment as orderly midshipman and 
everything went on well ; for, of his own accord, he stayed on 
board the major part of the day to learn his duty, which very 
much pleased the captain and Mr. Potty far. In this Jack 
showed a great deal of good sense, and Captain Wilson did 
not repent of the indulgence he had shown him. Jack’s health 
improved daily, much to Mr. Pottyfar’s satisfaction, who 
imagined that he took the universal medicine night and morn- 
ing. Gascoigne also was a patient under the first lieutenant’s 
hands, and often on shore with our hero, who thought no 
more of quitting the service. 

For seven weeks they had now remained in harbour, for 
even the masts had to be made, when one day Captain 
Wilson opened a letter he received at breakfast-time, and 
having read it, laid it down with the greatest surprise de- 
picted in his countenance. ‘Good Heavens! what can this 
mean?’ said he. 

‘What’s the matter, Wilson?’ said the Governor. 

‘Just hear its contents. Sir Thomas.’ 

Captain Wilson then read in Spanish as follows : — 

‘Honourable Sir, — It is my duty to advise you that the 
Honourable Lady Signora Alforgas de Guzman, now de- 
ceased, has in her testament bequeathed to you the sum of 
one thousand doubloons in gold, as a testimony of your kind 
services on the night of the 12th of August. If you will 
authorize any merchant here to receive the money, it shall be 
paid forthwith, or remitted in any way you please to appoint. 
May you live a thousand years. — Your most obedient servant, 

‘Alfonzo Xerez.’ 

Jack heard the letter read, rose quietly, whistled low, as if 
not attending to it, and then slipped out of the room, unper- 
ceived by the Governor or Captain Wilson. 

The fact was, that although Jack had longed to tell the 

257 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Governor about his adventures after the masquerade, he did 
not like yet a while, until he was sure that there were no 
consequences — ^because he had given the captain’s name 
instead of his own. As soon as he heard the letter read, he 
at once perceived that it had been the old lady, and not the 
priests, who had made the inquiry, and that by giving Captain 
Wilson’s name he had obtained for him this fine legacy. Jack 
was delighted, but still puzzled, so he walked out of the room 
to reflect a little. 

'What can it mean?’ said Captain Wilson. ‘I never 
rendered any services to any one on the 12th of August or 
after it. It is some mistake — 12th of August, that was 
the day of the grand masquerade.’ 

'A lucky one for you, at all events — for you know, mistake 
or not, no one else can touch the legacy. It can only be 
paid to you.’ 

'I never heard of anything taking place at the masquerade 
— I was there, but I left early, for I was not very well. Mr. 
Easy,’ said Captain Wilson, turning round, but Jack was 
gone. 

'Was he at the masquerade?’ asked the Governor. 

'Yes, I know he was, for the first lieutenant told me that 
he requested not to come on board till the next day.’ 

'Depend upon it,’ replied the Governor, striking his fist on 
the table, 'that Jack’s at the bottom of it.’ 

'I should not be surprised at his being at the bottom of 
anything,’ replied Captain Wilson, laughing. 

'Leave it to me, Wilson, I’ll find it out.’ 

After a little more conversation Captain Wilson went on 
board, leaving Jack on purpose that the Governor might 
pump him. But this Sir Thomas had no occasion to do, for 
Jack had made up his mind to make the Governor his con- 
fidant, and he immediately told him the whole story. The 
Governor held his sides at our hero’s description, especially at 
his ruse of giving the captain’s name instead of his own. 

'You’ll kill me. Jack, before you’ve done with me,’ said old 
Tom at last; 'but now what is to be done?’ 

Our hero now became grave ; he pointed out to the 
Governor that he himself had plenty of money and would 
come into a large fortune, and that Captain Wilson was poor, 

25^ 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


with a large family. All Jack wished the Governor to manage 
was, that Captain Wilson might consent to accept the legacy. 

‘Right, boy, right! you’re my own boy,’ replied the 
Governor ; but we must think of this, for Wilson is the very 
soul of honour, and there may be some difficulty about it. 
You have told nobody?’ 

‘Not a soul but you. Sir Thomas.’ 

‘It never will do to tell him all this. Jack, for he would 
insist that the legacy belonged to you.’ 

‘I have it, sir,’ replied Jack. When I was going into the 
masquerade, I offered to hand this very old lady, who was 
covered with diamonds, out of her carriage, and she was so 
frightened at my dress of a devil, that she would have fallen 
down had it not been for Captain Wilson, who supported her, 
and she was very thankful to him.’ 

‘You are right. Jack,’ replied the Governor, after a short 
pause; ‘that will, I think, do. I must tell him the story of 
the friars, because I swore you had something to do with it 
— but I’ll tell him no more : leave it all to me.’ 

Captain Wilson returned in the afternoon, and found the 
Governor in the veranda. 

‘I have had some talk with young Easy,’ said the Governor, 
‘and he has told me a strange story about that night, which 
he was afraid to tell to everybody.’ 

The Governor then related the history of the friars and 
the will. 

‘Well, but,’ observed Captain Wilson, ‘the history of that 
will afford no clue to the legacy.’ 

‘No, it does not; but still, as I said. Jack had a hand in 
this. He frightened the old lady as a devil, and you caught 
her in your arms and saved her from falling, so he had a 
hand in it, you see.’ 

‘I do now remember that I did save a very dowager-like 
old personage from falling at the sight of a devil, who, of 
course, must have been our friend Easy.’ 

‘Well, and that accounts for the whole of it.’ 

‘A thousand doubloons for picking up an old lady I’ 

‘Yes, why not? Have you not heard of a man having a 
fortune left him for merely opening the pew-door of a church 
to an old gentleman?’ 


259 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


^Yes, but it appears so strange.’ 

‘There’s nothing strange in this world, Wilson, nothing at 
all — we may slave for years and get no reward, and do a 
trifle out of politeness and become independent. In my 
opinion, this mystery is unravelled. The old lady, for I knew 
the family, must have died immensely rich : she knew you in 
your full uniform, and she asked your name; a heavy fall 
would have been to one so fat a most serious aflfair — ^you saved 
her, and she has rewarded you handsomely.’ 

‘Well,’ replied Captain Wilson, ‘as I can give no other 
explanation, I suppose yours is the correct one ; but it’s hardly 
fair to take a thousand doubloons from her relations merely 
for an act of civility.’ 

‘You really are quite ridiculous ; the old lady owned half 
Murcia, to my knowledge. It is no more to them than any 
one leaving you a suit of mourning in an English legacy. I 
wish you joy; it will help you with a large family, and in 
justice to them you are bound to take it. Everybody does as 
he pleases with his own money, depend upon it — you saved 
her from breaking her leg short off at the hip- joint.’ 

‘Upon that supposition I presume I must accept of the 
legacy,’ replied Captain Wilson, laughing. 

‘Of course, send for it at once. The rate of exchange is 
now high. I will give you government bills which will make 
it nearly four thousand pounds.’ 

‘Four thousand pounds for preventing an old woman from 
falling!’ replied Captain Wilson. 

‘Devilish well paid, Wilson, and I congratulate you.’ 

‘For how much am I indebted to the father of young 
Easy!’ observed Captain Wilson, after a silence of some 
minutes; if he had not assisted me when I was appointed to 
a ship I should not have gained my promotion — nor three 
thousand pounds I have made in prize-money — ^the command 
of a fine frigate— and now four thousand pounds in a wind- 
fall. 

The Governor thought that he was more indebted to Jack 
than to his father for some of these advantages, but he was 
careful not to point them out. 

‘It’s very true,’ observed the Governor, ‘that Mr. Easy was 
of service to you when you were appointed ; but allow me to 

260 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


observe that for your ship, your prize-money, and for your 
windfall you have been wholly indebted to your own gallantry 
in both senses of the word ; still Mr. Easy is a fine generous 
fellow, and so is his son, I can tell you. By the bye I had a 
long conversation with him the other day.^ 

‘About himself?' 

‘Yes, all about himself. He appears to me to have come 
into the service without any particular motive, and will be just 
as likely to leave it in the same way. He appears to be very 
much in love with that Sicilian nobleman’s daughter. I find 
that he has written to her, and to her brother, since he has 
been here.’ 

‘That he came into the service in search of what he never 
will find in this world, I know very well ; and I presume that 
he has found that out — and that he will follow up the service 
is also very doubtful ; but I do not wish that he should leave 
it yet, it is doing him great good,’ replied Captain Wilson. 

‘I agree with you there — I have great influence with him, 
and he shall stay yet awhile. He is heir to a very large 
fortune, is he not?’ 

‘A clear eight thousand pounds a year, if not more.’ 

‘If his father dies he must, of course, leave ; a midshipman 
with eight thousand pounds a year would indeed be an 
anomoly.’ 

‘That the service could not permit. It would be as injur- 
ious to himself as it would be to others about him. At present 
he has almost, indeed I may say quite, an unlimited command 
of money.’ 

‘That’s bad, very bad. I wonder he behaves so well as 
he does.’ 

‘And so do I; but he really is a very superior lad, with 
all his peculiarities, and a general favourite with those whose 
opinions are worth having.’ 

‘Well, don’t curb him up too tight— for really he does not 
require it. He goes very well in a snaffle.’ 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER XXVIH 

'philosophy made easy" upon agrarian principles^ the 

SUBJECT OF SOME UNEASINESS TO OUR HERO THE FIRST 

APPEARANCE, BUT NOT THE LAST, OF AN IMPORTANT 
PERSONAGE 

T he conversation was here interrupted by a mail from 
England which they had been expecting. Captain Wilson 
retired with his letters; the Governor remained equally oc- 
cupied ; and our hero received the first letter ever written to 
him by his father. It ran as follows : — 

‘My dear Son, — I have many times taken up my pen with 
the intention of letting you know how things went on in this , 
country. But as I can perceive around but one dark horizon 
of evil, I have as often laid it down again without ventur- v 
ing to make you unhappy with such bad intelligence. 

The account of your death, and also of your unexpectedly 
being yet spared to us, were duly received, and I trust I 
mourned and rejoiced on each occasion with all the moder- ' 
ation characteristic of a philosopher. In the first instance ■ 
I consoled myself with the reflection that the world you had 5 
left was in a state of slavery and pressed down by the iron 
arm of despotism, and that to die was gain, not only in all the 
parson tells us, but also in our liberty; and, at the second i 
intelligence, I moderated my joy for nearly about the same ■ 
reasons, resolving, notwithstanding what Dr. Middleton may 
say, to die as I have lived, a true philosopher. 

‘The more I reflect the more am I convinced that there is 
nothing required to make this world happy but equality, and , 
the rights of man being duly observed — in short, that every- 
thing and everybody should be reduced to one level. Do we 
not observe that it is the law of nature — do not brooks run 
into rivers — rivers into seas — mountains crumble down upon \ 
plains — are not the seasons contented to equalise the parts [ 
of the earth ? Why does the sun run round the eliptic, instead ^ 
of the equator, but to give an equal share of his heat to both 
sides of the world? Are we not all equally born in misery? 

262 > 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


does not death level us all quo pede, as the poet hath? are we 
not all equally hungry, thirsty, and sleepy, and thus levelled by 
our natural wants? And such being the case, ought we not 
to have our equal share of good things in this world, to 
which we have an undoubted equal right ? Can any argument 
be more solid or more level than this, whatever nonsense 
Dr. Middleton may talk? 

‘Yes, my son, if it were not that I still hope to see the sun 
of Justice arise, and disperse the manifold dark clouds which 
obscure the land — if I did not still hope, in my time, to see an 
equal distribution of property — an Agrarian law passed by 
the House of Commons, in which all should benefit alike — I 
would not care how soon I left this vale of tears, created by 
tyranny and injustice. At present the same system is carried 
on, the nation is taxed for the benefit of the few, and it groans 
under oppression and despotism ; but I still do think that there 
is, if I may fortunately express myself, a bright star in the 
west, and signs of the times which comfort me. Already we 
have had a good deal of incendiarism about the country, and 
some of the highest aristocracy have pledged themselves to 
raise the people above themselves, and have advised sedition 
and conspiracy ; have shown to the debased and unenlightened 
multitude that their force is physically irresistible, and recom- 
mended them to make use of it, promising that if they hold 
in power, they will only use that power to the abolition of our 
farce of a constitution, of a church, and of a king ; and that if 
the nation is to be governed at all, it shall only be governed 
by the many. This is cheering. Hail, patriot lords ! all hail ! 
I am in hopes yet that the great work will be achieved, in spite 
of the laughs and sneers and shakes of the head which my 
arguments still meet with from that obstinate fellow Dr. 
Middleton. 

‘Your mother is in a quiet way ; she has given over reading 
and working, and even her knitting, as useless, and she now 
sits all day long at the chimney-corner twiddling her thumbs 
and waiting, as she says, for the millennium. Poor thing ! she 
is very foolish with her ideas upon this .matter, but as usual I 
let her have her own way in everything, copying the philoso- 
pher of old who was tied to his Xantippe. 

‘I trust, my dear son, that your principles have strength- 
263 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


ened with your years and fortified with your growth, and 
that, if necessary, you will sacrifice all to obtain what 
in my opinion will prove to be the real millennium. Make all 
the converts you can, and believe me to be your affectionate 
father and true guide, Nicodemus Easy.’ 

Jack, who was alone, shook his head as he read this letter, 
and then laid it down with a pish! He did it involuntarily, 
and was surprised at himself when he found that he had so 
done. ‘I should like to argue the point,’ thought Jack, in 
spite of himself; and then he threw the letter on the table, 
and went into Gascoigne’s room, displeased with his father 
and with himself. He asked Ned whether he had received 
any letters from England, and it being near dinner-time, went 
back to dress. On his coming down to the receiving-room 
with Gascoigne, the Governor said to them, 

‘As you two both speak Italian, you must take charge of a 
Sicilian officer who has come here with letters of introduction 
to me, and who dines here to-day.’ 

Before dinner they were introduced to the party in question, 
a slight-made, well-looking young man, but there was an 
expression in his countenance which was not agreeable. In 
compliance with the wishes of the Governor, Don Mathias, 
for so he was called, was placed between our two midshipmen, 
who immediately entered into conversation with him, being 
themselves anxious to make inquiries about their friends at 
Palermo. In the course of conversation Jack inquired of him 
whether he was acquainted with Don Rebiera, to which the 
Sicilian answered in the affirmative, and they talked about the 
different members of the family. Don Mathias, towards the 
close of the dinner, inquired of Jack by what means he had 
become acquainted with Don Rebiera, and Jack, in reply, 
narrated how he and his friend Gascoigne had saved him 
from being murdered by two villains; after this reply the 
young officer appeared to be less inclined for conversation, 
but before the party broke up requested to have the acquian- 
tance of our two midshipmen. As soon as he was gone Gas- 
coigne observed in a reflective way, ‘I have seen that face 
before, but where I cannot exactly say ; but you know. Jack, 
what a memory of people I have, and I have seen him before, 
I am sure.’ 


264 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


'I cannot recollect that ever I have/ replied our hero, ‘but I 
never knew any one who could recollect in that way as you do.’ 

- The conversation was then dropped between them, and 
Jack was for some time listening to the Governor and Captain 
Wilson, for the whole party were gone away, when Gascoigne, 
who had been in deep thought since he had made the observa- 
tion to Jack, sprang up. 

T have him at last!’ cried he. 

‘Have who ?’ demanded Captain Wilson. 

‘That Sicilian officer — I could have sworn that I had seen 
him before.’ 

‘That Don Mathias?’ 

‘No, Sir Thomas! He is not Don Mathias! He is the 
very Don Silvio who was murdering Don Rebiera when we 
came to his assistance and saved him.’ 

T do believe you are right, Gascoigne.’ 

‘I’m positive of it,’ replied Gascoigne; T never made a 
mistake in my life.’ 

‘Bring me those letters. Easy,’ said the Governor, ‘and let 
us see what they say of him. Here it is — Don Mathias de 
Alayeres. You may be mistaken, Gascoigne ; it ’s a heavy 
charge you are making against this young man.’ 

‘Well, Sir Thomas, if that is not Don Silvio, I’d forfeit my 
commission if I had it here in my hand. Besides, I observed 
the change in his countenance when we told him it was Easy 
and I who had come to Don Rebiera’s assistance; and did 
you observe after that. Easy, that he hardly said a word?’ 

‘Very true,’ replied Jack. 

‘Well, well, we must see to this,’ observed the Governor; • 
‘if so, this letter of introduction must be a forgery.’ 

The party then retired to bed, and the next morning, while 
Easy was in Gascoigne’s room talking over their suspicions, 
letters from Palermo were brought up to him. They were in 
answer to those written by Jack on his arrival at Malta: a 
few lines from Don Rebiera, a small note from Agnes, and a 
voluminous detail from his friend Don Philip, who informed 
him of the good health of all the parties and of their goodwill 
towards him ; of Agnes being as partial as ever ; of his having 
spoken plainly, as he had promised Jack, to his father and 
mother relative to the mutual attachment; of their consent 
being given, and then withheld because Father Thomas, their 

265 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


confessor would not listen to the union of Agnes with a 
heretic; but, nevertheless, telling Jack this would be got over 
through the medium of his brother and himself, who were* 
determined that their sister and he should not be made un- 
happy about such a trifle. But the latter part of the letter 
contained intelligence equally important, which was that Don 
Silvio had again attempted the life of their father, and would 
have succeeded, had not Father Thomas, who happened to be 
there, thrown himself between them. That Don Silvio in his 
rage had actually stabbed the confessor, although the wound 
was not dangerous. That, in consequence of this, all 
further lenity was denied him, and that the authorities were in 
search of him to award him the punishment due to murder and 
sacrilege. That up to the present they could not find him, 
and it was supposed that he had made his escape to Malta in 
one of the speronares. 

Such were the contents of the letter, which were immedi* 
ately communicated to the Governor and Captain Wilson, upon 
their meeting at breakfast. 

‘Very well, we must see to this,’ observed the Governor, 
who then made inquiries as to other intelligence contained 
in the letters. 

Jack and Gascoigne were uneasy till the breakfast was over, 
when they made their escape; a few moments afterwards 
Captain Wilson rose to go on board, and sent for them, but 
they were not to be found. 

T understand it all, Wilson,’ said the Governor; 'leave 
them to me; go on board, and make yourself quite easy.’ 

In the meantime our two midshipmen had taken their hats 
and walked away to the parapet of the battery, where they 
would not be interrupted. 

‘Now, Gascoigne,’ observed Jack, ‘you guess what I’m 
about — I must shoot that rascal this very morning, and that ’s 
why I came out with you.’ 

‘But, Easy, the only difference is this, that I must shoot 
him and not you ; he is my property, for I found him out.’ 

‘We ’ll argue that point,’ replied Jack : ‘he has attempted 
the life of my is-to-be, please God, father-in-law, and there- 
fore I have the best claim to him.’ 

T beg your pardon. Jack, he is mine, for I discovered him. 
266 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Now let me put a case: suppose one man walking several 
yards before another picks up a purse, what claim has the 
other to it? I found him, and not you.' 

‘That’s all very well, Gascoigne; but suppose the purse 
you picked up to be mine, then I have a right to it, although 
you found it; he is my bird by right, and not yours.’ 

‘But I have another observation to make, which is very 
important: he is, a blood-relation of Agnes, and if his blood 
is on your hands, however much he may deserve it, depend 
upon it, it will be raised as an obstacle to your union ; think 
of that.’ 

Jack paused in thought. 

‘And let me induce you by another remark— you will confer 
on me a most particular favour.’ 

‘It will be the greatest I ever could,’ replied Jack, ‘and you 
ought to be eternally indebted to me.’ 

‘I trust to make him eternally indebted to me,’ replied 
Gascoigne. 

Sailors, if going into action, always begin to reckon what 
their share of the prize-money may be, before a shot is fired — 
our two midshipmen appear in this instance to be doing the 
same. 

The point having been conceded to Gascoigne, Jack went 
to the inn where Don Silvio had mentioned that he had taken 
up his quarters, and sending up his card, followed the waiter 
upstairs. The waiter opened the door and presented the card. 

‘Very well,’ replied Don Silvio, ‘you can go down and 
show him up.’ 

Jack, hearing these words, did not wait but walked in, 
where he found Don Silvio very busy removing a hone upon 
which he had been whetting a sharp double-edged stiletto. 
The Sicilian walked up to him, offering his hand with appar- 
ent cordiality; but Jack, with a look of defiance, said, ‘Don 
Silvio, we know you ; my object now is to demand, on the part 
of my friend, the satisfaction which you do not deserve, 
but which our indignation at your second attempt upon 
Don Rebiera induces us to offer ; for if you escape from him 
you will have to do with me. On the whole, Don Silvio, 
you may think yourself fortunate, for it is better to die 
by the hand of a gentleman than by the gibbet.’ 

267 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Don Silvio turned deadly pale — his hand sought his 
stiletto in his bosom, but it was remaining on the table ; at 
last he replied, ‘Be it so — I will meet you when and where 
you please in an hour from this.' 

Jack mentioned the place of meeting and then walked 
out of the room. He and Gascoigne then hastened to the 
quarters of an officer they were intimate with, and having 
provided themselves with the necessary firearms, were at 
the spot before the time. They waited for him till the exact 
time, yet no Don Silvio made his appearance. 

‘He 's off,’ observed Gascoigne ; ‘the villain has escaped us.’ 

Half-an-hour over the time had passed, and still there 
was no sign of Gascoigne’s antagonist, but one of the Gov- 
ernor’s aides-de-camp was seen walking up to them. 

‘Here’s Atkins,’ observed Jack; ‘that’s unlucky, but he 
won’t interfere.’ 

‘Gentlemen,’ said Atkins, taking off his hat with much 
solemnity, ‘the Governor particularly wishes to speak to you 
both.’ 

‘We can’t come just now — we ’ll be there in half-an-hour.’ 

‘You must be there in three minutes, both of you. Excuse 
me, my orders are positive — and to see them duly executed 
I have a corporal and a file of men behind that wall — of 
course, if you walk with me quietly there will be no occasion 
to send for their assistance.’ 

‘This is confounded tyranny,’ cried Jack. ‘Well may they 
call him King Tom.’ 

‘Yes,’ replied Atkins, ‘and he governs here in rey absoluto 
— so come along.’ 

Jack and Gascoigne, having no choice, walked up to the 
government-house, where they found Sir Thomas in the 
veranda, which commanded a view of the harbour and offing. 

‘Come here, young gentlemen,’ said the Governor in a 
severe tone ; ‘do you see that vessel about two miles clear of 
the port? Don Silvio is in it, going back to Sicily under 
a guard. And now remember what I say as a maxim 
through life. Fight with gentlemen if you must fight, but 
not with villains and murderers. By consenting to fight with 
a blackguard you as much disparage your cloth and compro- 
mise your own characters as by refusing to give satisfaction 

268 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


to a gentleman. There, go away, for I ’m angry with you, 
and don’t let me see you till dinner-time.’ 


CHAPTER XXIX 

IN WHICH OUR HERO SEES A LITTLE MORE SERVICE, AND IS 
BETTER EMPLOYED THAN IN FIGHTING DON SILVIO 

B ut before they met the Governor at his table, a sloop- 
of-war arrived from the fleet with despatches from 
the commander-in-chief. Those to Captain Wilson required 
him to make all possible haste in fitting, and then to proceed 
and cruise off Corsica, to fall in with a Russian frigate which 
was on that coast ; if not there, to obtain intelligence, and to 
follow her wherever she might be. 

All was now bustle and activity on board of the Aurora. 
Captain Wilson, with our hero and Gascoigne, quitted the 
Governor’s house and repaired on board, where they re- 
mained day and night. On the third day, the Aurora was 
complete and ready for sea, and about noon sailed out of 
Vallette harbour. 

In a week the Aurora had gained the coast of Corsica, and 
there was no need of sending lookout-men to the mast-head, 
for one of the officers or midshipmen was there from day- 
light to dark. She ran up the coast to the northward with- 
out seeing the object of her pursuit or obtaining any intel- 
ligence. 

Calms and light airs detained them for a few days, when 
a northerly breeze enabled them to run down the eastern 
side of the island. It was on the eighteenth day after they 
had quitted Malta that a large vessel was seen ahead about 
eighteen miles off. The men were then at breakfast. 

‘A frigate. Captain Wilson. I’m sure of it,’ said Mr. 
Hawkins, the chaplain, whose anxiety induced him to go to 
the mast-head. 

‘How is she steering?’ 

‘The same way as we are.’ 

269 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

The Aurorct was under all possible sail, and when the 
hands were piped to dinner, it was thought that they had 
neared the chase about two miles. 

This will be a long chase, a stern-chase always is,’ ob- 
served Martin to Gascoigne. 

‘Yes, Pm afraid so— but Pm more afraid of her escaping.’ 

‘That ’s not unlikely either,’ replied the mate. 

‘You are one of Job’s comforters, Martin,’ replied Gas- 
coigne. 

‘Then Pm not so often disappointed,’ replied the mate. 
‘There are two points to be ascertained — the first is, 
whether we shall come up with the vessel or lose her ; the next 
is, if we do come up with her, whether she is the vessel we 
are looking for.’ 

‘You seem very indifferent about it.’ 

‘Indeed I am not; I am the oldest passed midshipman in 
the ship, and the taking of the frigate will, if I live, give 
me my promotion, and if Pm . killed I shan’t want it. But 
I ’ve been so often disappointed, that I now make sure of 
nothing until I have it.’ 

‘Well, for your sake, Martin, I will still hope that the 
vessel is the one we seek, that we shall not be killed, and 
that you will gain your promotion.’ 

‘I thank you. Easy — I wish I was one that dared hope 
as you do.’ 

Poor Martin! he had long felt how bitter it was to meet 
disappointment upon disappointment. How true it is that 
hope deferred maketh the heart sick! — and his anticipations 
of early days, the buoyant calculations of youth, had been 
one by one crushed, and now, having served his time nearly 
three times over, the reaction had become too painful, and, 
as he truly said, he dared not hope : still his temper was not 
soured but chastened. 

‘She has hauled her wind, sir,’ hailed the second lieutenant 
from the topmast cross-trees. 

‘What think you of that, Martin?’ observed Jack. 

‘Either that she is an English frigate, or that she is a 
vessel commanded by a very brave fellow, and well manned.’ 

It was sunset before the Aurora had arrived within two 
miles of the vessel; the private signal had been thrown out, 

270 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


but had not been answered, either because it was too dark 
to make out the colours of the flags, or that these were un- 
known to an enemy. The stranger had hoisted the English 
colours, but that was no satisfactory proof of her being a 
friend; and just before dark she had put her head towards 
the Aurora, which had now come stem down to her. The 
ship’s company of the Aurora were all at their quarters, as a 
few minutes would now decide whether they had to deal 
with a friend or foe. 

There is no situation perhaps more difficult, and demand- 
ing so much caution, as the occasional meeting with a doubt- 
ful ship. On the one hand, it being necessary to be fully 
prepared and not allow the enemy the advantage which may 
be derived from your inaction ; and on the other, the ne- 
cessity of prudence, that you may not assault your friends 
and countrymen. Captain Wilson had hoisted the private 
night-signal, but here again it was difficult, from his sails 
intervening, for the other ship to make it out. Before the two 
frigates were within three cables’ length of each other. 
Captain Wilson, determined that there should be no mis- 
take from any want of precaution on his part, hauled up his 
courses and brailed up his driver that the night-signal might 
be clearly seen. 

Lights were seen abaft on the quarter-deck of the other 
vessel as if they were about to answer, but she continued 
to keep the Aurora to leward at about half a cable’s length, 
and as the foremost guns of each vessel were abreast of each 
other, hailed in English. 

‘Ship ahoy! what ship’s that?’ 

‘His Majesty’s ship Aurora,' replied Captain Wilson, who 
stood on the hammocks. ‘What ship’s that?’ 

By this time the other frigate had passed half her length 
clear of the beam of the Aurora, and at the same time that 
a pretended reply of ‘His Majesty’s ship—’ was heard, a 
broadside from her guns, which had been trained aft on 
purpose, was poured into the Aurora, and, at so short a 
distance, doing considerable execution. The crew of the 
Aurora, hearing the hailing in English, and the vessel passing 
them apparently without firing, had imagined that she had 
been one of their own cruisers. The caotains of the guns 

277 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


had dropped their lanyards in disappointment, and the si- 
lence which had been maintained as the two vessels met 
was just breaking up in various ways of lamentation at their 
bad luck, when the broadside was poured in, thundering 
in their ears, and the ripping and tearing of the beams and 
planks astonished their senses. Many were carried down be- 
low, but it was difficult to say whether indignation at the en- 
emy’s ruse, or satisfaction at discovering that they were not 
called to quarters in vain, most predominated. At all events it 
was answered by three voluntary cheers, which drowned the 
cries of those who were being assisted to the cockpit. 

‘Man the larboard guns and about ship!’ cried Captain 
Wilson, leaping off the hammocks. ‘Look out, my lads, 
and rake her in stays! We’ll pay him off for that foul 
play before we ’ve done with him. Look out, my lads, and 
take good aim as she pays round.’ 

The Aurora was put about, and her broadside poured into 
the stern of the Russian frigate — for such she was. It was 
almost dark, but the enemy, who appeared as anxious as 
the Aurora to come to action, hauled up her courses to await 
her coming up. In five minutes the two vessels were along- 
side exchanging murderous broadsides at little more than 
pistol-shot — running slowly in for the land, then not more 
than five miles distant. The skin-clad mountaineers of 
Corsica were aroused by the furious cannonading, watching 
the incessant flashes of the guns, and listening to their re- 
verberating roar. 

After half-an-hour’s fierce combat, during which the fire 
of both vessels was kept up with undiminished vigour, 
Captain Wilson went down on the main-deck, and himself 
separately pointed each gun after it was loaded ; those amid- 
ships being direct for the main-channels of the enemy’s ship, 
while those abaft the beam were gradually trained more and 
more forward, and those before the beam more and more aft, 
so as to throw all their shot nearly into one focus, giving 
directions that they were all to be fired at once, at the word 
of command. The enemy, not aware of the cause of the 
delay, imagined that the fire of the Aurora had slackened, 
and loudly cheered. At the word given the broadside was 
poured in, and, dark as it was, the effects from it were 

272 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


evident. Two of the midships ports of the antagonist were 
blown into one, and her main-mast was seen to totter, and 
then to fall over the side. The Aurora /hen set her courses, 
which had been hauled up, and, shooting ahead, took up a 
raking position while the Russian was still hampered with 
her wreck, and poured in grape and cannister from her 
upper deck carronades to impede their labours on deck, while 
she continued her destructive fire upon the hull of the enemy 
from the main-deck battery. 

The moon now burst out from a low bank of clouds, and 
enabled them to accomplish their work with more precision. 
In a quarter of an hour the Russian was totally dismasted, 
and Captain Wilson ordered half of his remaining ship’s 
company to repair the damages, which had been most severe, 
whilst the larboard men at quarters continued the fire from 
the main-deck. The enemy continued to return the fire from 
four guns, two on each of her decks, which she could still 
make bear on the Aurora; but after some time even these 
ceased, either from the men having deserted them, or from 
their being dismounted. Observing that the fire from 
her antagonist had ceased, the Aurora also discontinued, 
and the jolly-boat astern being still uninjured, the second 
lieutenant was deputed to pull alongside of the frigate to 
ascertain if she had struck. 

The beams of the bright moon silvered the rippling water 
as the boat shoved off; and Captain Wilson and his officers 
who were still unhurt leant over the shattered sides of 
the Aurora, waiting for a reply : suddenly the silence of the 
night was broken upon by a loud splash from the bows of 
the Russian frigate, then about three cables’ length distant. 

‘What could that be?’ cried Captain Wilson. ‘Her 
anchor’s down. Mr. Jones, a lead over the side, and see 
what water we have.’ 

Mr. Jones had long been carried down below, severed 
in two with a round shot — ^but a man leaped into the chains, 
and lowering down the lead, sounded in seven fathoms. 

‘Then I suspect he will give us more ‘trouble yet,’ observed 
Captain Wilson; and so indeed it proved, for the Russian 
captain, in reply to the second lieutenant, had told him in 
English that ‘he would answer that question with his broad- 

273 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


side/ and before the boat was dropped astern, he had warped 
round with the springs on his cable, and had recommenced 
his fire upon the Aurora. 

Captain Wilson made sail upon his ship, and sailed round 
and round the anchored vessel, so as to give her two broad- 
sides to her one; and from the slowness with which she 
worked at her springs upon her cables, it was evident that 
she must be now very weak-handed. Still the pertinacity and 
decided courage of the Russian captain convinced Captain 
Wilson that, in all probability, he would sink at his anchor 
before he would haul down his colours; and not only would 
he lose more of the Aurora's men, but also the Russian vessel, 
without he took a more decided step. Captain Wilson, 
therefore, resolved to try her by the board. Having poured 
in a raking fire, he stood off for a few moments, during which 
he called the officers and men on deck, and stated his intention. 
He then went about, and himself conning the Aurora, ran her 
on board the Russian, pouring in his reserved broadside as 
the vessels came into collision, and heading his men as they 
leaped on the enemy^s decks. 

Although, as Captain Wilson had imagined, the Russian 
frigate had not many men to oppose to the Aurora's, the deck 
was obstinately defended, the voice and the arm of the 
Russian captain were to be heard and seen everywhere, and 
his men, encouraged by him, were cut down by numbers 
where they stood. 

Our hero, who had the good fortune to be still unhurt, 
was for a little while close to Captain Wilson when he 
boarded, and was about to oppose his unequal force against 
that of the Russian captain, when he was pulled back by the 
collar by Mr. Hawkins, the chaplain, who rushed in advance 
with a sabre in his hand. The opponents were well matched, 
and it may be said that, with little interruption, a hand-to-hand 
conflict ensued, for the moon lighted up the scene of carnage, 
. and they were well able to distinguish each other’s faces. At 
last the chaplain’s sword broke; he rushed in, drove the hilt 
into his antagonist’s face, closed with him, and they both fell 
down the hatchway together. After this the deck was gained, 
or rather cleared, by the crew of the Aurora, for few could 
be said to have resisted, and in a minute or two the frigate 

274 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


was in their possession. The chaplain and the Russian captain 
were hoisted up, still clinging to each other, both senseless 
from the fall, but neither of them dead, although bleeding 
from several wounds. 

As soon as the main-deck had been cleared. Captain Wilson 
ordered the hatches to be put on, and left a party on board 
while he hastened to attend to the condition of his own ship 
and ship’s company. 

It was daylight before anything like order had been restored 
to the decks of the Aurora; the water was still smooth, and 
instead of letting go her own anchor, she had hung on with a 
hawser to the prize, but her sails had been furled, her decks 
cleared, guns secured, and the buckets were dashing away the 
blood from her planks and the carriages of the guns, when the 
sun rose and shone upon them. The numerous wounded had, 
by this time, been put into their hammocks, although there 
were still one or two cases of amputation to be performed. 

The carpenter had repaired all shot-holes under or too near 
to the water-line, and then had proceeded to sound the well of 
the prize; but although her upper works had been dreadfully 
shattered, there was no reason to suppose that she had received 
any serious injury below, and therefore the hatches still 
remained on, although a few hands were put to the pumps to 
try if she made any water. It was not until the Aurora 
presented a more cheerful appearance that Captain Wilson 
went over to the other ship, whose deck, now that the light of 
heaven enabled them to witness all the horrors even to 
minuteness, presented a shocking spectacle of blood and 
carnage. Body after body was thrown over; the wounded 
were supplied with water and such assistance as could be 
rendered until the surgeons could attend them; the hatches 
were then taken off, and the remainder of her crew ordered on 
deck ; about two hundred obeyed the summons, but the lower 
deck was as crowded with killed and wounded as was the 
upper. For the present the prisoners were handed over down 
into the forehold of the Aurora, which had been prepared for 
their reception, and the work of separation of the dead from 
the living then underwent. After this such repairs as were 
immediately necessary were made, and a portion of the 
Aurora's crew, under the orders of the second lieutenant, 

275 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


were sent on board to take charge of her. It was not till the 
evening of the day after this night conflict that the Aurora 
was in a situation to make sail. All hands were then sent on 
board of the Trident, for such was the name of the Russian 
frigate, to fit her out as soon as possible. Before morning,— 
for there was no relaxation from their fatigue, nor was there 
any wish for it,— all was completed, and the two frigates, 
although in a shattered condition, were prepared to meet any 
common conflict with the elements. The Aurora made sail 
with the Trident in tow; the hammocks were allowed to be 
taken down, and the watch below permitted to repose. 

In this murderous conflict the Trident had more than two 
hundred men killed and wounded. The Aurora's loss had not 
been so great, but still it was severe, having lost sixty-five men 
and officers. Among the fallen there were Mr. Jones, the 
master, the third lieutenant, Mr. Arkwright, and two midship- 
men killed. Mr. Pottyfar, the first lieutenant. Severely 
wounded at the commencement of the action. Martin, the 
master’s mate, and Gascoigne, the first mortally and the 
second badly wounded. Our hero had also received a slight 
cutlass wound, which obliged him to wear his arm, for a short 
time, in a sling. 

Among the ship’s company who were wounded was Mesty ; 
he had been hurt with a splinter before the Trident was taken 
by the board, but had remained on deck, and had followed our 
hero, watching over him and protecting him as a father. He 
had done even more, for he had with Jack thrown himself 
before Captain Wilson, at a time that he had received such a 
blow with the flat of a sword as to stun him and bring him 
down on his knee. And Jack had taken good care that Captain 
Wilson should not be ignorant, as he really would have been, 
of ‘this timely service on the part of Mesty, who certainly, 
although with a great deal of sang-froid in his composition 
when in repose, was a fiend incarnate when his blood was up. 

'But you must have been with Mesty,’ observed Captain 
Wilson, 'when he did me the service.’ 

'I was with him, sir,’ replied Jack, with great modesty; 
‘but was of very little service.’ 

'How is your friend Gascoigne this evening?’ 

‘Oh, not very bad, sir — he wants a glass of grog.’ 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘And Mr. Martin?’ 

Jack shook his head. 

‘Why, the surgeon thinks he will do well.’ 

‘Yes, sir, and so I told Martin; but he said that it was 
very well to give him hope— but that he thought otherwise.’ 

‘You must manage him, Mr. Easy; tell him that he is 
sure of his promotion.’ 

‘I have, sir, but he won’t believe it. He never will believe 
it till he has his commission signed. I really think that an 
acting order would do more than the doctor can.’ 

‘Well, Mr. Easy, he shall have one to-morrow morning. 
Have you seen Mr. Potty far ? He, I am afraid, is very bad.’ 

‘Very bad, sir; and, they say, is worse every day, and yet 
his wound is healthy, and ought to be doing well.’ 

Such was the conversation between Jack and his captain, 
as they sat at breakfast on the third morning after the action. 

The next day^Easy took down an acting order for Martin, 
and put it into his hands. The mate read it over as he lay 
bandaged in his hammock. 

‘It’s only an acting order. Jack,’ said he; ‘it may not be 
confirmed.’ 

Jack swore, by all the articles of war, that it would be ; but 
Martin replied that he was sure it never would. 

‘No, no,’ said the mate; ‘I knew very well that I never 
should be made. If it is not confirmed, I may live; but if it 
is, I am sure to die.’ 

Every one that went to Martin’s hammock wished him joy 
of his promotion ; but six days after the action poor Martin’s 
remains were consigned to the deep. 

The next person who followed him was Mr. Pottyfar, the 
first lieutenant, who had contrived, wounded as he was, to 
reach a packet of the universal medicine, and had taken so 
many bottles before he was found out, that he was one 
morning found dead in his bed, with more than two dozen 
empty phials under his pillow and by the side of his mattress. 
He was not buried with his hands in his pockets, but when 
sewed up in his hammock they were, at all events, laid in the 
right position, 


277 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER XXX 

MODERN PHILANTHROPY, WHICH, AS USUAL, IS THE CAUSE OF 
MUCH TROUBLE AND VEXATION 

I N three weeks the Aurora, with her prize in tow, arrived 
at Malta. The wounded were sent to the hospital, and the 
gallant Russian captain recovered from his wounds about the 
same time as Mr. Hawkins, the chaplain. 

Jack, who constantly called to see the chaplain, had a great 
deal to do to console him. He would shake his hands as he 
lay in his bed, exclaiming against himself. ‘Oh,' would he 
say, ‘the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. That I, a man 
of God, as they term me, who ought to have been down with 
the surgeons, whispering comfort to the desponding, should 
have gone on deck (but I could not help it), and have mixed 
in such a scene of slaughter ! What will become of me ?' 

Jack attempted to console him by pointing out that not 
only chaplains but bishops have been known to fight in 
armour from time immemorial. But Mr. Hawkins's recovery 
was long doubtful, from the agitation of his mind. When he 
was able to walk. Jack introduced to him the Russian captain, 
who was also just out of his bed. 

‘I am most happy to embrace so gallant an officer,' said 
the Russian, who recognised his antagonist, throwing his arms 
round the chaplain, and giving him a kiss on both cheeks. 
‘What is his rank?' continued he, addressing himself. to Jack, 
who replied, very quietly, ‘that he was the ship’s padre.’ 

‘The padre !’ replied the captain, with surprise, as Hawkins 
turned away with confusion. ‘The padre — par exemple! 
Well, I always had a great respect for the Church. Pray, sir,’ 
said he, turning to Easy, ‘do your padres always head your 
boarders ?’ 

‘Always, sir,’ replied Jack ; ‘it’s a rule of the service — and 
the duty of a padre to show the men the way to heaven. It’s 
our ninety-ninth article of war.’ 

‘You are a fighting nation,' replied the Russian, bowing to 
Hawkins, and continuing his walk, not exactly pleased that he 
had been floored by a parson. 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Mr. Hawkins continued very disconsolate for some time; 
he then invalided and applied himself to his duties on shore, 
where he would not be exposed to such temptations from his 
former habits. 

As the Aurora, when she was last at Malta, had nearly 
exhausted the dockyard for her repairs, she was even longer 
fitting out this time, during which Captain Wilson’s despatches 
had been received by the admiral, and had been acknowledged 
by a brig sent to Malta. The admiral, in reply, after com- 
plimenting him upon his gallantry and success, desired that, 
as soon as he was ready, he should proceed to Palermo with 
communications of importance to the authorities, and having 
remained there for an answer, was again to return to Malta to 
pick up such of his men as might be fit to leave the hospital, 
and then join the Toulon fleet. This intelligence was soon 
known to our hero, who was in ecstasies at the idea of again 
seeing Agnes and her brothers. Once more the Aurora sailed 
away from the high-crowned rocks of Vallette, and with a 
fine breeze dashed through the deep blue waves. 

But towards the evening the breeze increased, and they 
were under double-reefed topsails. On the second day they 
made the coast of Sicily, not far from where Easy and 
Gascoigne had been driven on shore; the weather was then 
more moderate, and the sea had, to a great degree, subsided. 
They therefore stood in close to the coast, as they had not a 
leading wind to Palermo. As they stood in, the glasses, as 
usual, were directed to land — observing the villas with which 
the hills and valleys were studded, with their white fronts 
embowered in orange groves. 

‘What is that, Gascoigne,’ said Easy, ‘under that precipice ? 
— it looks like a vessel.’ 

Gascoigne turned his glass in the direction— ‘Yes, it is a 
vessel on the rocks ; by her prow she looks like a galley.’ 

‘It is a galley, sir— one of the row-galleys— I can make out 
her bank of oars,’ observed the signal-man. 

This was reported to Captain Wilson, who also examined 
her. 

‘She is on the rocks, certainly,’ observed he; ‘and I think 
I see people on board. Keep her away a point, quarter- 
master.’ 


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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 

The Aurora was now steered right for the vessel, and in the 
course of an hour was not more than a mile from her. Their 
suppositions were correct — it was one of the Sicilian govern- 
ment galleys bilged on the rocks, and they now perceived that 
there were people on board of her, making signals with their 
shirts and pieces of linen. 

‘They must be the galley-slaves, for I perceive that they 
do not one of them change their positions; the galley must 
have been abandoned by the officers and seamen, and the 
slaves left to perish.’ 

That’s very hard,’ observed Jack to Gascoigne ; ‘they were 
condemned to the galleys, but not to death.’ 

‘They will not have much mercy from the waves,’ replied 
Gascoigne; ‘they will all be in kingdom come- to-morrow 
morning, if the breeze comes more on the land. We have 
already come up two points this forenoon.’ 

Although Captain Wilson did not join in this conversation, 
which he overheard as he stood on the forecastle gun, with 
his glass over the hammocks, it appears he was of the same 
opinion ; but he demurred : he had to choose between allowing 
so many of his fellow-creatures to perish miserably, or to let 
loose upon society a set of miscreants, who would again enter 
a course of crime until they were recaptured, and by so doing 
probably displease the Sicilian authorities. After some little 
reflection he resolved that he would take his chance of the 
latter. The Aurora was hove to in stays, and the two cutters 
ordered to be lowered down, and the boat’s crew to be armed. 

‘Mr. Easy, do you take one cutter and the armourers; 
pull on board of the galley, release those people, and land 
them in small divisions. Mr. Gascoigne, you will take the 
other to assist Mr. Easy, and when he lands them in his boat, 
you will pull by his side ready to act, in case of any hostile 
attempt on the part of the scoundrels ; for we must not expect 
gratitude: of course, land them at the nearest safe spot for 
debarkation.’ 

In pursuance of these orders, our two midshipmen pulled 
away to the vessel. They found her fixed hard upon the 
rocks, which had pierced her slight timbers, and, as they had 
supposed, the respectable part of her crew, with the com- 
mander, had taken to the boats, leaving the galley-slaves to 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


their fate. She pulled fifty oars, but had only thirty-six 
manned. These oars were forty feet long, and ran in from 
the thole-pin with a loom six feet long, each manned by four 
slaves, who were chained to their seat before it, by a running 
chain made fast by a padlock in amidships. A plank, of two 
feet wide, ran fore and aft the vessel between the two banks 
of oars, for the boatswain to apply the lash to those who did 
not sufficiently exert themselves. 

‘Viva los Inglesos,’ cried the galley-slaves, as Easy climbed 
up over the quarter of the vessel. 

T say, Ned, did you ever see such a precious set of 
villains ?' observed Easy, as he surveyed the faces of the men 
who were chained. 

‘No,’ replied Gascoigne; ‘and I think if the captain had 
seen therm as we have, that he would have left them where 
they were.’ 

‘Armourer, knock off all the padlocks, beginning aft ; when 
we have a cargo we will land them. How many are there ?— 
twelve dozen ; — twelve dozen villains to let loose upon society. 
I have a great mind to go on board again and report my 
opinion to the captain — on^e hundred and forty-four villains, 
who all deserve hanging— for drowning is too good for them.’ 

‘Our orders are to liberate them. Jack.’ 

‘Yes; but I should like to argue this point with Captain 
Wilson.’ 

‘They’ll send after them fast enough. Jack, and they’ll all 
be in limbo again before long,’ replied Gascoigne. 

‘Well, I suppose we must obey orders ; but it goes against 
my conscience to save such villainous-looking rascals. 
Armourer, hammer away.’ 

The armourer, who, with the seamen, appeared very much 
of Jack’s opinion and had not commenced his work, now 
struck off the padlocks, one by one, with his sledge-hammer. 
As soon as they were released the slaves were ordered into 
the cutter, and when it was sufficiently loaded Jack shoved off, 
followed by Gascoigne as guard, and landed them at the point 
about a cable’s length distant. It required six trips before 
they were all landed : the last cargo were on shore, and Easy 
was desiring the men to shove off, when one of the galleriens 
turned round and cried out to Jack in a mocking tone, ‘Adio, 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


signor, a reveder la.' Jack stared, started, and in the squalid, 
naked wretch who addressed him he recognised Don Silvio! 

‘I will acquaint Don Rebiera of your arrival, signor,' said 
the miscreant, springing up the rocks, and mixing with the 
rest, who now commenced hooting and laughing at their 
preservers. 

‘Ned,' observed Easy to Gascoigne, ‘we have let that rascal 
loose.' 

‘More's the pity,' replied Gascoigne; ‘but we have only 
obeyed orders.' 

‘It can't be helped, but I've a notion there will be some 
mischief out of this.' 

‘We obeyed orders,' replied Gascoigne. 

‘We've let the rascal loose not ten miles from Don 
Rebiera's.' 

‘Obeyed orders. Jack.' 

‘With a whole gang to back him, if he goes there.' 

‘Orders, Jack.' 

‘Agnes at his mercy.' 

‘Captain's orders, Jack.' 

‘I shall argue this point when I go on board,' replied Jack. 

‘Too late. Jack.' 

‘Yes,' replied Easy, sinking down on the stern-sheets with 
a look of despair. 

‘Give way, my lads, give way.' 

Jack returned on board and reported what he had done; 
also that Don Silvio was among those; liberated ; and he 
ventured to mention his fears of what might take place from 
their contiguity to the house of Don Rebiera. Captain Wilson 
bit his lips : he felt that his philanthropy had induced him to 
act without his usual prudence. 

‘I have done a rash thing, Mr. Easy, I am afraid. I should 
have taken them all on board and delivered them up to the 
authorities. I wish I had thought of that before. We must 
get to Palermo as fast as we can, and have the troops 
sent after these miscreants. Hands 'bout ship, fill the main- 
yard !' 

The wind had veered round, and the Aurora was now able 
to lay up clear of the island of Maritimo. The next morning 
she anchored in Palermo Roads— gave immediate notice to 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


the authorities, who, wishing Captain Wilson's philanthropy 
at the devil, immediately despatched a large body of troops in 
quest of the liberated malefactors. Captain Wilson, feeling 
for Jack’s anxiety about his friends, called him over to him 
on deck, and gave him and Gascoigne permission to go on 
shore. 

‘Will you allow me to take Mesty with me, sir, if you 
please?’ said Jack. 

‘Yes, Mr. Easy; but recollect that even with Mesty you 
are no match for one hundred and fifty men, so be prudent. 
I send you to relieve your anxiety, not to run into danger.’ 

‘Of course, sir,’ replied Jack, touching his hat, and walking 
away quietly till he came to the hatchway, when he darted 
down like a shot, and was immediately occupied with his 
preparations. 

In half-an-hour our two midshipmen, with Mesty, had 
landed, and proceeded to the inn where they had put up 
before; they were armed up to the teeth. Their first in- 
quiries were for Don Philip and his brother. 

‘Both on leave of absence,’ replied the landlord, ‘and 
staying with Don Rebiera.’ 

‘That’s some comfort,’ thought Jack. ‘Now we must get 
horses as fast as we can. — Mesty, can you ride?’ 

‘By all de power can I ride, Massa Easy? suppose you 
ride Kentucky horse, you ride anyting.’ 

In half-an-hour four horses and a guide were procured, and 
at eight o’clock in the morning the party set off in the 
direction of Don Rebiera’s country seat. 

They had not ridden more than six miles when they came 
up with one of the detachments sent out in pursuit of the 
liberated criminals. Our hero recognised the commanding 
officer as an old acquaintance, and imparting to him the 
release of Don Silvio and his fears upon Don Rebiera’s 
account, begged him to direct his attention that way. 

‘Corpo de Bacco— you are right. Signor Mid,’ replied the 
officer. ‘But Don Philip is there, and his brother too, I 
believe. I will be there by ten o’clock to-morrow morning; 
we will march almost the whole night.’ 

‘They have no arms,’ observed Easy. 

‘No, but they will soon get them; they will go to some 
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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


small town in a body, plunder it, and then seek the protec- 
tion of the mountains. Your captain has given us a pretty 
job.’ 

Jack exchanged a few more words, and then excusing 
himself on account of his haste, put the spurs to his horse 
and regained his own party, who now proceeded at a rapid 
pace. 

‘O signor !’ said the guide, Ve shall kill the horses.’ 

‘I’ll pay for them,’ said Jack. 

‘Yes, but we shall kill them before we get there. Jack,’ 
replied Gascoigne, ‘and have to walk the rest of the way.’ 

‘Very true, Ned; let’s pull up and give them their wind.’ 

‘By de holy poker, Massa Easy, but my shirt stick to my 
ribs,’ cried Mesty, whose black face was hung with dewdrops 
from their rapid course. 

‘Never mind, Mesty.’ 

It was about five o’clock in the afternoon when they 
arrived at the seat of Don Rebiera. Jack threw himself off 
his jaded steed and hastened into the house, followed by 
Gascoigne. They found the whole family collected in the 
large sitting-room, quite ignorant of any danger threatening 
them, and equally astonished and pleased at the arrival of 
their old friends. Jack flew to Agnes, who screamed when 
she saw him, and felt so giddy afterwards that he was obliged 
to support her. Having seated her again, he was kindly 
greeted by the old people and the two young officers. After 
a few minutes dedicated to mutual inquiries, our hero stated 
the cause of their expeditious arrival. 

‘Don Silvio with one hundred and fifty gallerians let loose 
on the coast yesterday afternoon!’ exclaimed Don Rebiera; 
‘you are right, I only wonder that they were not here last 
night. But I expect Pedro from the town; he has gone 
down with a load of wine ; he will bring us intelligence.’ 

‘At all events, we must be prepared,’ said Don Philip; ‘the 
troops, you say, will be here to-morrow morning.’ 

‘Holy Virgin!’ exclaimed the ladies in a breath. 

‘How many can we muster?’ said Gascoigne. 

‘We have five men here, or we shall have by the evening,’ 
replied Don Philip— ‘all, I think, good men— my father, my 
brother, and myself.’ 


284 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘We are three— four with the guide, whom I know nothing 
about.’ 

‘Twelve in all— not one too many; but I think that now 
we are prepared, if they attack, we can hold out till the 
morning.’ 

‘Had we not better send the ladies away?’ said Jack. 

‘Who is to escort them?’ replied Don Philip; ‘we shall 
only weaken our force: besides, they may fall into the 
miscreants’ hands.’ 

‘Shall we all leave the house together ? they can but plunder 
it,’ observed Don Rebiera. 

‘Still we may be intercepted by them, and our whole 
force will be nothing against so many,’ observed Don Philip, 
‘if we are without defence, whereas in the house we shall 
have an advantage.’ 

‘E’ vero,’ replied Don Rebiera thoughtfully; ‘then let us 
prepare, for depend upon it Don Silvio will not lose such an 
opportunity to wreak his vengeance. He will be here to-night. 
I only wonder he has not been here with his companions 
before. However, Pedro will arrive in two hours.’ 

‘We must now see what means we have of defence,’ said 
Philip. ‘Come, brother— will you come, sir ?’ 


CHAPTER XXXI 

A REGULAR SET-TO, IN WHICH THE PARTIES BEATEN ARE NOT 
KNOCKED DOWN, BUT RISE HIGHER AND HIGHER AT EACH 
DISCOMFITURE— NOTHING BUT THE TROOPS COULD HAVE 
PREVENTED THEM FROM GOING UP TO HEAVEN 

D on rebiera and his two sons quitted the room. 

Gascoigne entered into conversation with the signora, 
while Easy took this opportunity of addressing Agnes. He 
had been too much occupied with the consultation to pay her 
much attention before. He had spoken with his eyes fixed 
upon her, and had been surprised at the improvement which 

285 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


had taken place in less than a year. He now went to her and 
asked her in a low voice, 'whether she had received his letter.’ 

‘Oh yes !’ replied she, colouring. 

‘And were you angry with what I said, Agnes?’ in a low 
tone. 

‘No,’ replied she, casting her eyes down on the floor. 

‘I repeat now what I said, Agnes— I have never forgotten 
you.’ 

‘But ’ 

‘But what?’ 

‘Father Thomaso.’ 

‘What of him?’ 

‘He never will ’ 

‘Will what?’ 

‘You are a heretic, he says.’ 

‘Tell him to mind his own business.’ 

‘He has great influence with my father and mother.’ 

‘Your brothers are on our side.’ 

‘I know that, but there will be great difficulty. Our 
religion is not the same. He must talk to you— he will 
convert you.’ 

‘We’ll argue that point, Agnes. I will convert him if he 
has common sense; if not it’s no use arguing with him. 
Where is he?’ 

‘He will soon be at home.’ 

‘Tell me, Agnes, if you had your own will would you marry 
me ?’ 

‘I don’t know; I have never seen any one I liked so well.’ 

‘Is that all?’ 

‘Is it not enough for a maiden to say?’ replied Agnes, 
raising her eyes, and looking reproachfully. ‘Signor, let me 
go, here comes my father.’ 

Notwithstanding, Jack cast his eyes to the window where 
Gascoigne and the signora were in converse, and perceiving 
that the old lady’s back was turned, he pressed Agnes to his 
bosom before he released her. The gentlemen then returned 
with all the firearms and destructive weapons they could 
collect. 

‘We have enough,’ observed Don Philip, ‘to arm all the 
people we have with us.’ 


286 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


'And we are well armed/ replied Jack, who had left Agnes 
standing alone. ‘What now are your plans 

‘Those we must now consult about. It appears’— but at 
this moment the conversation was interrupted by the sudden 
entrance of Pedro, who had been despatched to the town with 
the load of wine. He rushed in flurried and heated, with his 
red cap in his hand. 

‘How now, Pedro, back so early !’ 

‘O signor!’ exclaimed the man — ‘they have taken the cart 
and the wine, and have drawn it away, up to the mountains.’ 

‘Who?’ inquired Don Rebiera. 

‘The galley-slaves who have been let loose — and by the 
body of our blessed saint, they have done pretty mischief — 
they have broken into houses, robbed everything— murdered 
many— clothed themselves with the best— collected all the 
arms, provisions, and wine they could lay their hands on, and 
have marched away into the mountains. This took place last 
night. As I was coming down within a mile of the town, 
they met me with my loaded cart, and they turned the bullocks 
round and drove them away along with the rest. By the 
blessed Virgin I but they are stained with blood, but not 
altogether of men, for they have cut up some of the oxen. I 
heard this from one of the herdsmen, but he too fled and could 
not tell me more. But, signor, I heard them mention your 
name.’ 

‘I have no doubt of it,’ replied Don Rebiera. ‘As for the 
wine, I only hope they will drink too much of it to-night. But, 
Pedro, they will be here, and we must defend ourselves— so 
call the men together; I must speak to them.’ 

‘We shall never see the bullocks again,’ observed Pedro 
mournfully. 

‘No; but we shall never see one another again, if we do 
not take care. I have information they come here to-night.’ 

‘Holy Saint Francis ! and they say there are a thousand of 
them.’ 

‘Not quite so many, to my knowledge,’ observed Jack. 

‘They told me that a great many were killed in their attack 
upon the town, before they mastered it.’ 

‘So much the better. Go now, Pedro, drink a cup of wine, 
and then call the other men.’ 

287 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


The house was barricaded as well as circumstances would 
permit ; the first story was also made a fortress by loading the 
landing-place with armoires and chests of drawers. The 
upper story, or attic, if it might be so called, was defended in 
the same way, that they might retreat from one to the other 
if the doors were forced. 

It was eight o’clock in the evening before all was ready, 
and they were still occupied with the last defence under the 
superintendence of Mesty, who showed himself an able 
engineer, when they heard the sound of an approaching 
multitude. They looked out of one of the windows and 
perceived the house surrounded by the galley-slaves, in 
number apparently about a hundred. They were all dressed 
in a most fantastic manner with whatever they could pick up : 
some had firearms, but the most of them were supplied with 
only swords or knives. With them came also their cortege 
of plunder; carts of various descriptions loaded with pro- 
visions of all sorts and wine ; women lashed down with ropes, 
sails from the vessels and boats to supply them with covering 
in the mountains, hay and straw and mattresses. Their 
plunder appeared to be well chosen for their exigencies. To 
the carts were tied a variety of cattle, intended to accompany 
them to their retreat. ' They all appeared to be under a leader 
who was issuing directions — that leader was soon recognised 
by those in the house to be Don Silvio. 

‘Massa Easy, you show me dat man?’ said Mesty, when 
he heard the conversation between Easy and the Rebieras; 
‘only let me know him.’ 

‘Do you see him there, Mesty, walking down in front of 
those men? he has a musket in his hand, a jacket with silver 
buttons, and white trousers.’ 

‘Yes, Massa Easy, me see him well— let me look little more 
—dat enough.’ 

The galley-slaves appeared to be very anxious to surround 
the house that no one should escape, and Don Silvio was 
arranging the men. 

‘Ned,’ said Jack, ‘let us show him that we are here. He 
said that he would acquaint Don Rebiera with our arrival— let 
us prove to him that he is too late.’ 

‘It would not be a bad plan,’ replied Gascoigne ; ‘if it were 
288 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


possible that these fellows had any gratitude among them, 
some of them might relent at the idea of attacking those who 
saved them.’ 

‘Not a bit; but it will prove to them that there are more 
in the house than they think for ; and we can frighten some of 
them by telling them that the soldiers are near at hand.’ 

Jack immediately threw up the casement and called out in 
a loud voice, ‘Don Silvio! galley-slave! Don Silvio!’ 

The party hailed turned round and beheld Jack, Gascoigne, 
and Mesty, standing at the window of the upper floor. 

‘We have saved you the trouble of announcing us,’ called 
out Gascoigne. ‘We are here to receive you.’ 

‘And in three hours the troops will be here, so you must be 
quick, Don Silvio,’ continued Jack. 

'A reveder la,' continued Gascoigne, letting fly his pistol at 
Don Silvio. 

The window was then immediately closed. The appearance 
of our heroes, and their communication of the speedy arrival 
of the troops, was not without effect. The criminals trembled 
at the idea ; Don Silvio was mad with rage — he pointed out to 
the men the necessity of immediate attack— the improbability 
of the troops arriving so soon, and the wealth which he 
expected was locked up by Don Rebiera in his mansion. This 
rallied them, and they advanced to the doors, which 
they attempted to force without success, losing several 
men by the occasional fire from the house. Finding their 
efforts, after half an hour’s repeated attempts, to be useless, 
they retreated, and then bringing up a long piece of timber 
which required sixty men to carry it, they ran with it 
against the door, and the weight and impetus of the 
timber drove it off its hinges, and an entrance was 
obtained. By this time it was dark, the lower story 
had been abandoned, but the barricade at the head of the 
stairs opposed their progress. Convenient loop-holes had 
been prepared by the defendants, who now opened a smart 
fire upon the assailants, the latter having no means of return- 
ing it effectually had they had ammunition for their muskets, 
which fortunately they had not been able to procure. The 
combat now became fierce, and the galley-slaves were several 
times repulsed with great loss during a contest of two hours ; 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


but, encouraged by Don Silvio, and refreshed by repeated 
draughts of wine, they continued by degrees removing the 
barriers opposed to them. 

We shall have to retreat!^ exclaimed Don Rebiera: Very 
soon they will have torn down all. What do you think. Signor 
Easy ?’ 

‘Hold this as long as we can. How are we off for ammu- 
nition ?’ 

‘Plenty as yet — plenty to last for six hours, I think.’ 

‘What do you say, Mesty ?’ 

‘By holy St. Patrig— I say hold out here— they got no fire- 
arms— and we ab *um at arm-length.’ 

This decision was the occasion of the first defence being 
held for two hours more, an occasional relief being afforded 
by the retreat of the convicts to the covered carts. 

At last, it was evident that the barricade was no longer 
tenable, for the heavy pieces of furniture they had heaped up 
to oppose entrance were completely hammered to fragments 
by poles brought up by the assailants, and used as battering- 
rams. The retreat was sounded ; they all hastened to the other 
story, where the ladies were already placed, and the galley- 
slaves were soon in possession of the first floor — exasperated 
by the defence, mad with wine and victory, but finding 
nothing. 

Again was the attack made upon the second landing, but, 
as the stairs were now narrower, and their defences stronger 
in proportion, they for a long while gained no advantage. On 
the contrary, many of their men were wounded and taken 
down below. 

The darkness of the night prevented both parties from 
seeing distinctly, which was rather in favour of the assailants. 
Many climbed over the fortress of piled-up furniture, and 
were killed as soon as they appeared on the other side, and at 
last, the only ammunition used was against those who made 
this rash attempt. For four long hours did this assault and 
defence continue, until daylight came, and then the plan of 
assault was altered : they again brought up the poles, ham- 
mered the pieces of furniture into fragments, and gained 
ground. The defendants were worn out with fatigue, but 
flinched not ; they knew that their lives, and the lives of those 

290 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


dearest to them, were at stake, and they never relaxed their 
exertions. Still the criminals, with Don Silvio at their head, 
progressed, the distance between the parties gradually 
decreased, and there was but one massive chest of drawers 
now defending the landing-place, and over which there was a 
constant succession of blows from long poles and cutlasses, 
returned with the bullets from their pistols. 

‘We must now fight for our lives,' exclaimed Gascoigne to 
Easy, ‘for what else can we do?’ 

‘Do — get on the roof and fight there, then,’ replied Jack. 

‘By the bye, that’s well thought of. Jack,’ said Gascoigne. 
‘Mesty, up and see if there is any place we can retreat to in 
case of need.’ 

Mesty hastened to obey, and soon returned with a report 
that there was a trap-door leading into the loft under the roof, 
and that they could draw the ladder up after them. 

‘Then we may laugh at them,’ cried Jack. ‘Mesty, stay 
here while I and Gascoigne assist the ladies up,’ explaining to 
the Rebieras and to their domestics why they went. 

Easy and Gascoigne hasted to the signora and Agnes, con- 
ducted them up the ladder into the loft, and requested them to 
have no fear ; they then returned to the defences on the stairs, 
and joined their companions. They found them hard pressed, 
and that there was little chance of holding out much longer; 
but the stairs were narrow and the assailants could not bring 
their force against them. But now, as the defences were 
nearly destroyed, although the convicts could not reach them 
with their knives, they brought up a large supply of heavy 
stones, which they threw with great force and execution. 
Two of Don Rebiera’s men and Don Martin were struck 
down, and this new weapon proved most fatal. 

‘We must retreat. Jack,’ said Gascoigne ; ‘the stones can do 
no harm where we are going to. What think you, Don Philip ?’ 

‘I agree with you; let those who are wounded be first 
carried up, and then we will follow.’ 

This was effected, and as soon as the wounded men were 
carried up the ladder, and the arms taken up to prevent their 
falling into the hands of the assailants, for they were now of 
little use to thejn, the ammunition being exhausted, the whole 
body went into the large room which contained the trap-door 

291 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


of the loft, and, as soon as they were up, they drew the ladder 
after them. They had hardly effected this, when they were 
followed with the yells and shouting of the galley-slaves, who 
had passed the last barriers, and thought themselves sure of 
their prey: but they were disappointed — they found them 
more secure than ever. 

Nothing could exceed the rage of Don Silvio at the pro- 
tracted resistance of the party, and the security of their 
retreat. To get at them was impossible, so he determined to 
set fire to the room and suffocate them, if he could do no 
otherwise. He gave his directions to his men, who rushed 
down for straw, but in so doing he carelessly passed under the 
trap-door, and Mesty, who had carried up with him two or 
three of the stones, dashed one down on the head of Don 
Silvio, who fell immediately. He was carried away, but his 
orders were put in execution ; the room was filled with straw 
and fodder, and lighted. The effects were soon felt. The 
trap-door had been shut, but the heat and smoke burst 
through ; after a time, the planks and rafters took fire, and 
their situation was terrible. A small trap-window in the roof, 
on the side of the house, was knocked open, and gave them 
a temporary relief ; but now the rafters burned and cracked, 
and the smoke burst on them in thick columns. They could 
not see, and with difficulty could breathe. Fortunately the 
room below that which had been fired was but one out of four 
on the attics, and, as the loft they were In spread over the 
whole of the roof, they were able to remove far from it. The 
house was slated with massive slate of some hundredweight 
each, and it was not found possible to remove them so as 
give air, although frequent attempts were made. Doi * 
Rebiera sank exhausted in the arms of her husband, an 
Agnes fell into those of our hero, who, enveloped in the 
smoke, kissed her again and again ; and she, poor girl, thinking 
that they must all inevitably perish, made no scruple, in what 
she supposed her last moment, of returning these proofs of 
her ardent attachment. 

^Massa Easy, help me here, — Massa Gascoigne, come 
here. Now heab wid all your might : when we get one off we 
get plenty.’ 

Summoned by Mesty, Jack and Gascoigne put their 
292 


r 



Kissed her again and again. 











MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


shoulders to one of the lower slates; it yielded— was dis- 
engaged, and slid down with a loud rattling below. The ladies 
were brought to it, and their heads put outside; they soon 
recovered ; and now that they had removed one, they found no 
difficulty in removing others. In a few minutes they were all 
with their heads in the open air, but still the house was on 
fire below, ^nd they had no chance of escape. It was while 
they were debating upon this point, and consulting as to their 
chance of safety, that a breeze of wind wafted the smoke that 
issued from the roof away from them, and they beheld the 
detachment of troops making up to the house. A loud cheer 
was given, and attracted the notice of the soldiers. They 
perceived Easy and his companions ; the house was surrounded 
and entered in an instant. 

The galley-slaves, who were in the house searching for the 
treasure reported by Don Silvio to be concealed, were captured 
or killed, and in five minutes the troops had possession. But 
how to assist those above was the difficulty. The room below 
was in flames, and burning fiercely. There were no ladders 
that could reach so high, and there were no means of getting 
to them. The commandant made signs from below, as if to 
ask what he was to do. 

T see no chance,’ observed Don Philip mournfully. ‘Easy’ 
my dear fellow, and you, Gascoigne, I am sorry that the feuds 
of our family should have brought you to such a dreadful 
death ; but what can be done ?’ 

‘I don’t know,’ replied Jack, ‘unless we could get ropes.’ 

‘You quite sure, Massa Easy, that all galley-rascals below 
gone ?’ asked Mesty. 

‘Yes,’ replied Easy, ‘you may see that; look at some of 
them bound there, under charge of the soldiers.’ 

‘Den, sar, I tink it high time we go too.’ 

‘So do I, Mesty; but how?’ 

‘How? stop a little. Come, help me, Massa Easy; dis 
board (for the loft was floored) is loose, come help, all 
of you.’ 

They all went, and with united strength pulled up the 
board. 

‘Now strike like ! — and drive down de plaster,’ said 

Mesty, commencing the operation. 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


In a few minutes they had beaten an opening into one 
of the rooms below not on fire, pulled up another board, 
and Mesty having fetched the ladder, they all descended 
in safety, and, to the astonishment of the commandant of 
the troops, walked out of the door of the house, those 
who had been stunned with stones having so far recovered 
as to require little assistance. 

The soldiers shouted as they saw them appear support- 
ing the females. The commanding officer, who was an 
intimate friend of Don Philip, flew to his arms. The pris- 
oners were carefully examined by Mesty, and Don Silvio 
was not among them. He might, however, be among the 
dead who were left in the house, which now began to burn 
furiously. The galley-slaves who were captured amounted 
in number to forty-seven. Their dead they could not count. 
The major part of the plunder and the carts were still 
where they had been drawn up. 

As soon as the culprits had been secured, the attention 
of the troops was directed to putting out the flames, but 
their attempts were ineffectual; the mansion was burned 
to the bare walls, and but little of the furniture saved; 
indeed, the major part of it had been destroyed in the 
attack made by Don Silvio and his adherents. 

Leaving directions with Pedro and his people that the 
property collected by the miscreants should be re- 
stored to the owners, Don Rebiera ordered the horses, and 
with the whole party put himself under the protection of 
the troops, who, as soon as they had been refreshed and 
taken some repose, bent their way back to Palermo with 
the galley-slaves, bound and linked together in a long double 
row. 

They halted when they had gone half-way, and remained 
for the night. The next day, at noon, Don Rebiera and 
his family were once more in their palazzo, and our two 
midshipmen and Mesty took their leave, and repaired on 
board to make themselves a little less like chimney-sweepers. 

Captain Wilson was not out of the ship. Jack made 
his report, and then went down below, very much pleased 
at what had passed, especially as he would have another 
long yarn for the Governor on his return to Malta. 

294 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER XXXII 

IN WHICH OUR HERO AND GASCOIGNE OUGHT TO BE ASHAMED 
OF THEMSELVES, AND DID FEEL WHAT MIGHT BE CALLED 
MIDSHIPMITE COMPUNCTION 

T he Aurora continued three weeks at Palermo, during 
which the most active search had been made for the 
remainder of the galley-slaves, and some few had been cap- 
tured, but still Don Silvio, and a considerable number, were at 
large ; and it was said that they had retired to the fastnesses 
in the mountains. Our hero was constantly on shore at 
Don Rebiera’s house, and, after what had passed, he was 
now looked upon as soon to become a member of the family. 
The diiference of religion was overlooked by Don 
Rebiera and the relations — ^by all but the confessor, Father 
Thomaso, who now began to agitate and fulminate into 
the ears of the Donna Rebiera all the pains and penalties 
attending heretical connection, such as excommunication 
and utter damnation. The effects of his remonstrances 
were soon visible, and Jack found that there was con- 
straint on the part of the old lady, tears on the part of 
Agnes, and all father confessors heartily wished at the 
devil ten times a day on the part of Don Philip and his 
brother. At last he wormed the truth out of Agnes, who 
told her tale, and wept bitterly. 

‘Ned, I don’t much like the appearance of things,’ observed 
Jack; T must get rid of that Father Thomaso.’ 

‘You’ll find that rather difficult,’ observed Gascoigne; 
‘besides, if you were rid of him you would have his place 
filled up with another.’ 

‘He has frightened that poor old woman into the dismals, 
and she has the pains of purgatory on her already. I shall 
go and talk to Mesty.’ 

‘How can Mesty help you?’ 

‘I don’t know, but you can’t; so, for want of better 
advice. I’ll try the Ashantee.’ 

Our hero went to Mesty, and laid the difficult affair open 
to him. 


295 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘I see,’ said Mesty, showing his filed teeth, ‘you want him 
skull.’ 

‘No, I don’t, Mesty; but I want him out of the way.’ 

‘How dat possible, Massa Easy?— ship sail day after to- 
morrow. Now ’pose I ab time, I soon manage all dat. Stop 
a little.’ 

‘Confound it! but there’s no stopping,’ replied Jack. 

‘Suppose, Massa Easy, you get leave go on shore — 
not come off again.’ 

‘That will be deserting, Mesty.’ 

‘By holy poker, I hab it — ^you go ashore and break your 
leg.’ 

‘Break my leg!— break my leave you mean?’ 

‘No, Massa Easy— you break your leg — den captain 
leave you on shore, and leave me take care of you.’ 

‘But why should I break my leg, and how am I to break 
my leg?’ 

‘Only pretend break leg, Massa Easy. Go talk Massa 
Don Philip, he manage all dat. Suppose man break his leg 
in seven pieces, it is not possible to take him board.’ 

‘Seven pieces, Mesty! that’s rather too many. However, 
I’ll think of this.’ 

Jack then went back and consulted Gascoigne, who ap- 
proved of Mesty’s advice, and thought the scheme feasible. 

‘If we could only pretend that we were thrown out of 
a caricola, you break your leg, a compound fracture 
of course — I break my arm — ^both left on shore at sick 
quarters, with Mesty to take care of us.’ 

‘Capital indeed,’ replied Jack; ‘I really would not mind 
it if it really took place; at all events we’ll overturn the 
caricola.’ 

‘But shall we get leave the last day ?’ 

‘Yes, it’s two days since I have been on shore, for I 
have not liked to go to Don Rebiera’s since what Agnes 
told me. Besides, my clothes are all on shore, and that 
will be an excuse for a few hours.’ 

Our two midshipmen applied for leave the next morning 
to be off in the afternoon. The first lieutenant gave them 
permission. They hastened to the hotel, sent for Don Philip, 
and made him a party to their plan. He readily promised 
^ 296 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


his assistance, for he had resolved that our hero should 
marry his sister, and was fearful of the effect of his absence, 
coupled with Friar Thomaso’s influence over his mother. 
He went to the surgeon of his regiment, who immediately 
entered into the scheme. 

Our two midshipmen got into a caricola, rattled up and 
down the streets, and perceiving Captain Wilson at his 
window, flogged the horses into a gallop : when abreast of 
the barracks Jack ran the wheel against a bank, and threw 
himself and Gascoigne out. Midshipmen are never hurt 
by these accidents, but fortunately for the success of the 
enterprise their faces were cut and bruised. Don Philip was 
standing by : he called the men to pick up the two scamps, 
carried them into the barracks, sent for the surgeons, who 
undressed them, put Jack’s leg into a multitude of splints, 
and did the same for Gascoigne’s arm. They were then 
put to bed, their contused faces with the blood left in statu 
quo; while Don Philip sent an orderly, as from the com- 
mandant, to Captain Wilson, to acquaint him that two of 
his officers had been thrown out of a caricola, and were 
lying dangerously hurt at the barracks. 

'Good heavens, it must be Mr. Easy and Mr. Gascoigne!’ 
said Captain Wilson when the intelligence was communi- 
cated ; T saw them galloping down the street like two mad- 
men just now. Coxswain, take the gig on board and tell 
the surgeon to come on shore immediately, and bring him 
up to me at the barracks.’ 

Captain Wilson then put on his hat, buckled on his sword, 
and hastened to ascertain the extent of the injury. Don 
Philip kept out of the way, but the captain was ushered 
into the room by one of the officers, where he found, in 
two beds, our two midshipmen stretched out, the sur- 
geon of the forces and the regimental surgeon in con- 
sultation between them, while attendants were standing by 
each bed with restoratives. The medical gentlemen saluted 
Captain Wilson and looked very grave, talked about frac- 
tures, contusions, injuries, in the most interminable manner 
—hoped that Mr. Easy would recover — ^but had doubts. 
The other gentleman might do well with care; that is, 
as far as his arm was concerned, but there appeared to be 

297 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


a concussion of the brain. Captain Wilson looked at the 
cut and blood-smeared faces of the two young men, and 
waited with anxiety the arrival of his own surgeon, who 
came at last, puffing with the haste he had made, and re- 
ceived the report of the brothers of the faculty. 

The leg of Mr. Easy fractured in two places — had been 
set — ^bone protruding — impossible to move him. Gascoigne, 
arm compound fracture — contusion of the brain not certain. 
Now that all this would have been discovered to be false 
if the surgeon had been able to examine, is true; but how 
could he not credit the surgeon of the forces and the reg- 
imental surgeon, and how could he put the young men 
to fresh tortures by removing splints and unsetting limbs? 
Politeness, if nothing else, prevented his so doing, for it 
would have been as much as to say that either he did not 
credit their report or that he doubted their skill. He looked 
at our hero and his companion, who kept their eyes closed, 
and breathed heavily with their mouths open, put on a 
grave face as well as his brothers in the art, and reported 
to Captain Wilson. 

‘But when can they be moved, Mr. Daly?’ inquired the 
latter; T cannot wait, we must sail to-morrow, or the next 
day at the farthest.’ 

The surgeon, as in duty bound, put the question to the 
others, who replied that there would be great risk in mov- 
ing before the fever, which might be expected the next 
day, and which might last ten days; but that Captain Wil- 
son had better not think of removing them, as they should 
have every care and attention where they were and could 
rejoin the ship at Malta. Mr. Daly, the surgeon, agreed 
that this would be the most prudent step, and Captain Wil- 
son then gave his consent. 

That being settled, he walked up to the bed of Gascoigne 
and spoke to him; but Gascoigne knew that he was to have 
a concussion of the brain, and he made no reply, nor gave 
any signs of knowing that Captain Wilson was near him. 
He then went to our hero, who, at the sound of Captain 
Wilson’s voice, slowly opened his eyes without moving his 
head, and appeared to recognize him. 

‘Are you in much pain. Easy?’ said the caotain kindly. 
298 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Easy closed his eyes again and murmured, 'Mesty, Mesty !’ 

‘He wants his servant, the ship’s corporal, sir,’ said the 
surgeon. 

‘Well,’ replied Captain Wilson, ‘he had better have him; 
he is a faithful fellow and will nurse him well. When you 
go on board, Mr. Daly, desire the first lieutenant to send 
Mesty on shore with Mr. Gascoigne’s and Mr. Easy’s chests, 
and his own bag and hammock. Good heavens! I would 
not for a thousand pounds that this accident had occurred. 
Poor foolish boys — they run in couples, and if one’s in a 
scrape the other is sure to share it. Gentlemen, I return 
you many thanks for your kindness, and I must accept of 
your promised care for my unfortunate officers. I sail to- 
morrow at daylight. You will oblige me by informing 
their friends, the Rebieras, of their mischance, as I am sure 
they will contribute all they can to their comfort.’ So say- 
ing, Captain Wilson bowed and quitted the room, followed 
by the surgeon. 

As soon as the door was closed the two midshipmen 
turned their heads round and looked at each other, but 
they were afraid to speak at first, in case of the return of 
the surgeon. As soon as it was announced to them that 
Captain Wilson and Mr. Daly were outside the barrack 
gates our hero commenced— ‘Do you know, Ned, that my 
conscience smites me, and if it had not been that I should 
have betrayed those who wish to oblige us, when poor 
Captain Wilson appeared so much hurt and annoyed at 
our accident, I was very near getting up and telling him 
of the imposition to relieve his mind.’ 

‘I agree with you. Jack, and felt very much the same — ^but 
what’s done cannot be undone. We must now keep up the 
imposition for the sake of those who, to help us, have 
deceived him.’ 

‘I don’t think that you would find an English surgeon 
who would have consented to such an imposition.’ 

‘No, that is certain ; but, after all, it is an imposition that 
has hurt nobody.’ 

‘Oh, I do not wish to moralize — ^but I repent of my 
share in the deceit ; and had it to be done over again I would 
not consent to it.’ 


299 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘Not even for ? but I won’t mention her name in 

barracks.’ 

‘I don’t know,’ replied Jack; but let’s say no more about 
it, and thank these gentlemen for their kindness.’ 

‘Yes, but we must keep it up until we see the Aurora 
under all sail.’ 

‘And longer too,’ replied Jack; we must not let the 
affair get wind even on shore. We must not recover quickly, 
but still appear to recover. Don Rebiera and his wife must 
be deceived. I have a plot in my head, but I cannot work 
it out clear until I see Mesty.’ 

Don Philip now came in. He had seen Captain Wilson, 
who had requested him to look after the two invalids, and 
stated his intention to sail the next morning. They con- 
sulted with him, and it was agreed that no one should 
be acquainted with the real fact but his brother Martin and 
that all Palermo should be as much deceived as Captain 
Wilson, for, if not, it would put Father Thomaso on the 
qui vive, and make him fulminate more than ever. Our 
midshipmen ate an excellent dinner, and then remained in 
bed conversing till it was time to go to sleep; but long 
before that, Mesty had made his appearance with their 
clothes. The eyes of the Ashantee said all that wasmeces- 
sary — he never spoke a word, but unlashed his hammock 
and lay down in a corner, and they were soon all three asleep. 

The next morning Captain Wilson called to ascertain 
how our hero and his companion were, but the room had 
been darkened and he could not see their faces plainly. Easy 
thanked him for his kindness in allowing Mesty to attend 
them, and having received his orders as to their joining the 
ship as soon as they were recovered, and having promised to 
be very cautious in their behavior and keep out of all scrapes, 
he wished them f, speedy recovery and departed. 

In little more than half an hour afterwards, Mesty, who had 
been peeping out of the shutters, suddenly threw them open 
with a loud laugh. 

The Aurora was under weigh, with studding-sails below 
and aloft, standing out of the roads. Jack and Gascoigne 
got up, threw off the splints and danced about in their shirts. 

300 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


As soon as they were quiet again, Mesty said in a grave 
tone, ‘Den why you stay at sea, Massa Easy?’ 

‘Very true, Mesty, I’ve asked myself that question often 
enough lately; because I’m a fool, I suppose.’ 

‘And I, because I can’t help it,’ replied Gascoigne ; ‘never 
mind, we are on shore now, and I look for a famous cruise.’ 

‘But first we must see what the ground is we are to cruise 
on,’ replied Jack; ‘so, Mesty, let us have a palaver, as they 
say in your country.’ 

The two midshipmen got into their beds, and Mesty sat 
on the chest between them, looking as grave as a judge. 
The question was, how to get rid of the padre Thomaso. 
Was he to be thrown over the molehead to the fishes — or his 
skull broke — was Mesty’s knife to be resorted to — was 
he to be kidnapped or poisoned — or were fair means to be 
employed — persuasion, bribery ? Every one knows how 
difficult it is to get rid of a priest. 

As our hero and Gascoigne were not Italians, they thought 
that bribery would be the more English-like way of doing 
the thing; so they composed a letter, to be delivered by 
Mesty to the friar, in which Jack offered to Father Thomaso 
the moderate sum of one thousand dollars, provided he 
would allow the marriage to proceed, and not frighten the 
old lady with ecclesiastical squibs and crackers. 

As Mesty was often on shore with Jack, and knew the 
friar very well by sight, it was agreed that the letter should be 
confided to his charge; but, as it was not consistent that 
a person in such a state as our hero was represented to be 
should sit up and write letters, the delivery was deferred 
for a few days, when, after waiting that time, Mesty de- 
livered the letter to the friar, and made signs that he 
was to take back the answer. The friar beckoned him 
that he was to accompany him to his room, where he read the 
letter, and then again made signs to him to follow him. The 
friar led the way to his monastery, and as soon as Mesty 
was in his cell, he summoned another who could speak 
English to act as interpreter. 

‘Is your master recovering?’ 

‘Yes,’ replied Mesty, ‘he is at present doing well.’ 

301 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘Have you served him long?^ 

‘No/ replied Mesty. 

‘Are you very fond of him? Does he treat you well, give 
you plenty of money?' 

At these questions, the artful black conceived that there 
was something in the wind, and he therefore very quietly 
replied, ‘I do not care much for him/ 

The friar fixed his keen eye upon Mesty, and perceived 
there was a savage look about the black, from which he 
augured that he was a man who would suit his purpose. 

‘Your master here offers me a thousand dollars; would 
you wish to gain this money for yourself?’ 

Mesty grinned and showed his sharp filed teeth. 

‘It would make me rich man in my own country.’ 

‘It would,’ replied the friar ; now you shall have it, if you 
will only give your master a small powder.’ 

‘I understand,’ replied Mesty; ‘had those things in my 
country.’ 

‘Well — do you consent? If so, I will write the letter to 
get the money.’ 

‘Suppose they find me out?’ replied Mesty. 

‘You will be safe, and you shall be sent away as soon as 
possible— say, will you consent?’ 

‘The whole thousand dollars ?’ 

‘Every one of them.’ 

‘Den give me the powder.’ 

‘Stay a little,’ replied the friar, who went out of the cell, 
and, in about ten minutes, returned with an answer to our 
hero’s letter and a paper containing a greyish powder. 

‘Give him this in his soup or anything — spread it on his 
meat, or mix it up with his sugar, if he eats an orange.’ 

‘I see,’ replied Mesty. 

‘The dollars shall be yours. I swear it on the holy cross.’ 

Mesty grinned horribly, took his credentials, and then 
asked, ‘When I come again?’ 

‘As soon as you have received the money bring it to me 
at Don Rebiera’s — then give the powder: as soon as it is 
given you must let me know, for you must not remain in. 
Palermo. I will myself conduct you to a place of safety.’ 

Mesty then quitted the cell and was shown out of the 
monastery. 


302 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘By de holy poker he one d— n rascal!’ muttered Mesty, 
as he was once more in the open air. ‘But stop a little.’ 

The Ashantee soon arrived at the barracks, and repeated 
the whole of the conference between him and the Friar 
Thomaso. 

‘It must be poison, of course,’ observed Gascoigne; ‘sup- 
pose we try it upon some animal?’ 

‘No, Massa Gascoigne,’ replied Mesty, ‘I try it myself, 
by and by. Now what we do?’ 

‘I must give you the order for the thousand dollars, 
Mesty,’ replied Jack. ‘The rascal here writes to me that for 
that sum he will consent not only not to oppose me, but 
agrees to assist my cause ; but the great question is, whether 
he will keep his word with you, Mesty; if not, I shall lose 
my money. So therefore we must now have another pa- 
laver and argue the point.’ 

The point was argued between Jack and Gascoigne. A 
thousand dollars was a large sum, but Jack’s father was 
a philosopher. After many pros and cons, it was at last 
decided that the money should be given to Mesty ; but 
that Mesty should state, when he took the money to the 
friar, that he had administered the powder, and claim it 
when he presented it. 

The next day the order for the money was given to Mesty, 
and he went to the Friar Thomaso with it. The friar 
hastened with Mesty to the monastery and sent for the in- 
terpreter. 

‘You have given it?’ inquired the friar. 

‘Yes — not one hour ago. Here de order for de money.’ 

‘You must run for the money before he is dead, for the 
powder is very rapid.’ 

‘And me,’ replied Mesty, apparently much alarmed, ‘where 
am I to go?’ 

‘As soon as you bring the money here, you must go back 
to the barracks. Remain there till he is dead, and then 
return here. I will have all ready, and take you, as soon 
as it is dusk, to a monastery of our order in the mountains, 
where no one will think of looking for you till the affair has 
blown over; and then I will find you a passage in some 
vessel out of the island.’ 

Mesty hastened for the money, and taking it in a large 

303 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


bag to the monastery, delivered it to the friar’s charge, and 
then returned to the barracks to Easy and Gascoigne. It 
was agreed that he should go with the friar, who would 
probably remain away some time ; indeed, Mesty insisted 
upon so doing. Mesty stayed two hours, and then returned 
about dusk to the monastery, and reported the death of our 
hero. He remained there until it was dark, and then the friar 
ordered him to tie the bag of dollars to his saddle-bow. They 
mounted two mules, which stood all ready caparisoned, and 
quitted Palermo. 

In the morning Don Philip, as usual, made his appear- 
ance, and told our hero that the friar had been summoned 
away by the abbot, and would not return for some time. 

T came to tell you this news,’ said Don Philip, ‘as I 
thought it would please you ; the sooner you are now well, 
the better. I mean to propose your being both removed to 
my father’s palazzo, and then you can recover your lost 
ground during the confessor’s absence.’ 

‘And I have the means,’ replied Jack, showing the friar’s 
letter. Don Philip read it with astonishment, but was still 
more surprised when he heard the whole story from Jack. 
He was for a time silent : at last he said, 

‘I am sorry for your poor black.’ 

‘Why so?’ replied Jack. 

‘You will never see him again, depend upon it. A 
thousand dollars would sign the death-warrant of a thou- 
sand blacks ; but there is another reason — they will put him 
out of the way that he may not give evidence. Where is 
the powder ?’ 

‘Mesty has it, he would not part with it.’ 

‘He is a shrewd fellow, that black! he may be too much 
for the friar,’ replied Don Philip. 

‘He means mischief. I’m sure,’ replied Gascoigne. 

‘Still I feel a great deal of alarm about him,’ replied Easy ; 
‘I wish now that I had not let him go.’ 

‘Are you sure that he went ?’ 

‘No, I am not ; but the friar told him that he should take 
him to the mountains as soon as it was dark.’ 

‘And probably he will,’ replied Don Philip, ‘as the best 
place to get rid of him. However, the whole of this story 
must be told both to my father and my mother : to the 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


former that he may take the right measures, and to my 
mother that it may open her eyes. Give me the copy of 
the letter you wrote to the friar, and then I shall have it all.’ 

The report of the accident which had occurred to Easy 
and Gascoigne had been spread and fully believed through- 
out Palermo. Indeed, as usual, it had been magnified, and 
asserted that they could not recover. To Agnes only had 
the case been imparted in confidence by Don Philip, for 
her distress at the first intelligence had been so great that 
her brother could not conceal it. 

Two days after Don Philip had made his parents ac- 
quainted with the villainy of the friar, the midshipmen 
were transported to the palazzo, much to the surprise of 
everybody, and much to the reknown of the surgeons, who 
were indemnified for their duplicity and falsehood by an 
amazing extension of their credit as skilful men. 

After their arrival at the palazzo, Don Rebiera was also 
entrusted with the secret, but it went no farther. As now 
there was no particular hurry for our hero to get well, he 
was contented and happy in the society of Agnes and her 
parents; the old lady, after she had been informed of 
the conduct of Friar Thomaso, having turned round in our 
hero’s favour, and made a vow never to have a confessor in 
the house again. Jack and Gascoigne were now as happy 
as could be; all their alarm was about Mesty, for whose 
return they were most anxious. 

To Don Rebiera Jack made known formally his inten- 
tions with regard to Agnes. He fully satisfied him as 
to his qualifications and his property, and Don Rebiera was 
fully aware of his debt of gratitude to our hero. But 
all he required was the consent of Jack’s father, and until 
this was obtained, he would not consent to the marriage 
taking place. Jack attempted to argue the point; his father, 
he said, had married without consulting him, and therefore 
he had a right to marry without consulting his father. 
But Don Rebiera, not having any acquaintance with the 
rights of man and equality, did not feel the full force of 
Jack’s argument, and made it a sine qua non that his 
parents should write and consent to the alliance before it 
took plac© 


305 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER XXXHI 

IN WHICH MESTY SHOULD BE CALLED THROUGHOUT MEPHIS- 
TOPHELES^ FOR IT ABOUNDS IN BLACK CLOAKS, DISGUISES, 
DAGGERS, AND DARK DEEDS 

O N the fourth evening after the removal of our two 
midshipmen to the palazzo of Don Rebiera, as they 
were sitting in company with Agnes and Don Philip in 
their own room, a friar made his appearance at the door. 
They all started, for by his height they imagined him to be 
the friar Thomaso, but no one addressed him. The friar 
shut the door without saying a word, and then lifting up 
his cowl, which had been drawn over it, discovered the black 
face of Mesty. Agnes screamed, and all sprang from their 
seats at this unusual and unexpected apparition. Mesty 
grinned, and there was that in his countenance which said 
that he had much to communicate. 

‘Where is the friar, Mesty?’ inquired Easy. 

‘Stop a little, massa — suppose we lock door first, and 
den I tell all’ 

Taking this precaution, Mesty threw off the friar’s gown, 
and appeared in his own dress, with the bag of dollars 
slung round his body. 

‘Now, Massa Easy, I hab a long tory to tell— so I tink 
I better begin at the beginning.’ 

‘It is the most approved method,’ replied Jack; ‘but stop 
when I hold up my finger, that we may translate what 
you say to the lady and Don Philip.’ 

‘Dat all right, sar. Friar and I get on two mule as soon 
as it quite dark. He make me carry all tousand dollars — 
and we ride out of town. We go up mountain and moun- 
tain, but the moon get up shine and we go on cheek by jowl 
—he nebber feay one word and I nebber say one word, 
’cause I no speak his lingo, and he no understand my 
English. About two o’clock in de morning we stop at a 
house and stay dere till eight o’clock, and den we go on 
again all next day, up all mountain, only stop once, eat 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


a bit bread, and drink lilly wine. Second night come on, 
and den we stop again, and people bow very low to him, 
and woman bring in rabbit for make supper. I go in the 
kitchen, woman make stew smell very nice, so I nod my 
head, and I say very good, and she make a face, and throw 
on table black loaf of bread and garlic, and make sign 
dat for my supper; good enough for black fellow, and dat 
rabbit stew for friar. Den I say to myself. Stop a little; 
suppose friar hab all de rabbit, I tink I give him a lilly 
powder.’ 

‘The powder, Mesty?’ exclaimed Jack. 

‘What does he say?’ inquired Don Philip. 

Gascoigne translated all that Mesty had communicated. 
The interest of the narrative now became exciting. Mesty 
continued : — 

‘Well, Massa Easy, den woman she go for dish to put 
stew in, and I take de powder and drop it in de pot, and 
den I sit down again and eat black bread, she say good 
enough for black man. She tir up de stew once more, and 
den she pour it out into dish, and take it to friar. He lick 
um chops, by all de powers, and he like um so well he pick 
all de bones, and wipe up gravy with him bread. You tink 
it very nice, Massa Friar, tink I; but stop a little. After 
he drink a whole bottle of wine, he tell em bring mules to 
de door, and he put him hands on de woman head, and dat 
de way he pay for him supper. 

‘The moon shone bright and we go all up mountain, 
always go up, and ’bout two hour he get off him mule 
and he put him hand so, and set down on de rock. He 
twist, and he turn and he groan for half-an-hour, and 
den he look at me, as much as to say. You black villain, 
you do this? for he not able to speak, and den I pull 
out de paper of de powder, and I show him, and make him 
sign he swallow it; he look again, and I laugh at him — and 
he die.’ 

‘Oh, Mesty, Mesty,’ exclaimed our hero, ‘you should not 
have done that, there will mischief come from it!’ 

‘Now he dead, Massa Easy, so much less mischief.’ 

Gascoigne then interpreted to Don Philip and Agnes the 
former of whom looked very grave and the latter terrified. 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘Let him go on/ said Don Philip; ‘I am most anxious 
to hear what he did with the, body.’ 

Mesty, at the request of our hero, proceeded, ‘Den I 
thought what I should do, and I said I would hide him, 
and I tink I take his coat for myself— so I pull off him coat 
and I pull off all his oder clothes — he not wear many — 
and I take the body in my arm and carry him where I 
find a great split in de rock above all road. I throw him 
in, and den I throw plenty large pieces rock on him till 
I no see him any more; den I take de two mules and 
get on mine wid de dollars, and lead de other three four 
mile, till I come to a large wood — take off him saddle 
and bridle, turn him adrift. Den I tear up all clothes all 
in lilly bits, hide one piece here, noder piece derc, and de 
saddle and bridle in de bush. All right now, I say; so I 
put on friar cloak, hide my face, get on my mule, and den 
I look where I shall go — so I say, I not be in dis road 
anyhow, I pass through wood till I find nother. I go ’bout 
two mile — moon go down, all dark, and five six men catch 
hold my bridle, and they all got arms, so I do nothing— they 
speak to me, but I no answer, and nebber show my face. 
They find all dollars (d — ^n um) fast enough, and they lead 
me away through the wood. Last we come to a large 
fire in de wood, plenty of men lie ’bout, some eat and some 
drink. They pull me off, and I hold down my head and fold 
my arms, just like friar do. They bring me along to one 
man and pour out all my dollar before him. He give 
some order, and they take me away, and I peep through 
the cloak, and I say to myself he that d — n galley-slave 
rascal Don Silvio.’ 

‘Don Silvio!’ cried Jack. 

‘What does he say of Don Silvio?’ demanded Don Philip. 

Mesty’s narrative was again translated, and he continued : 

‘Dey lead me away ’bout fifty yards, tie me to a tree, 
and den dey leave me, and dey all drink and make merry, 
never offer me anyting; so as I hab noting den to eat I eat 
de ropes and gnaw them through, and den I stay there 
two hour until all go asleep, and all quiet; for I say to 
myself. Stop a little. Den when dey all fast asleep, I 
take out my knife and I crawl ’long de ground, as we do 

308 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


in our country sometime — and den I stop and look 'bout 
me; no man watch but two, and dey look out for squarl, 
not look in board where I was. I crawl 'gain till I lay 
down 'longside that d — n galley-slave Don Silvio. He lie 
fast asleep with my bag tousand dollars under him head. 
So I tink, “You not hab dem long, you rascal." I look 
round all right, and I drive my knife good aim into him 
heart, and press toder hand on him mouth, but he make 
no noise; he struggle little and look up, and den I throw 
off de head of de gown and show him my black face, and 
he look and he try to speak, but I stop dat, for down 
go my knife again, and de d — n galley-slave dead 
as herring.' 

'Stop, Mesty, we must tell this to Don Philip,’ said Gas- 
coigne. 

'Dead, Don Silvio dead! well, Mesty, we are eternally 
obliged to you, for there was no safety for my father while 
he was living. Let him go on.' 

'So when I put de knife through his body, I lie down 
by him as if noting had happened, for ten minutes, and 
den I take de bag of dollars from under him head, and 

den I feel him all over, and I find him pistols and him 

purse, which I hab here, all gold. So I take them and 
I look — all asleep, and I crawl back to de tree. Den I 
stay to tink a little, de man on watch come up and look 
at me, but he tink all right and he go away again. ‘ Lucky 
ting, by de power, dat I go back to tree. I wait again, 
and den I crawl and crawl till I clear of all, and den I take 
to my heel and run for um life, till daylight come, and 

den I so tired I lie down in bush: I stay in bush all day 

and den I set off again back here, for I find road and 
know my way. I not eat den for one day and one night, and 
come to house where I put my head in and find woman 
there. I not able to speak, so I help myself, and not show 
my face. She not like dat and make a bobbery, but I 
lift up my cloak and show my black face and white teeth, 
and den she tink me de debil. She run out of de house 
and I help myself very quick, and den set off and come 
close here yesterday morning. I hide myself all day and 
come in at night; and now, Massa Easy, you ab de whole 

309 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


truth — and you ab your tousand dollars — and you ab got 
rid of de rascal friar and de d — n galley-slave Don Silvio.’ 

Tell them all this, Ned,’ said Jack, who, whilst Gas- 
coigne was so employed, talked with Mesty. 

'I was very much frightened for you, Mesty,’ said 
Jack; ‘but still I thought you quite as cunning as the friar, 
and so it has turned out ; but the thousand dollars ought 
to be yours.’ 

‘No, sar,’ replied Mesty, ‘the dollars not mine; but I 
hab plenty of gold in Don Silvio’s purse — plenty, plenty 
of gold. I keep my property, Massa Easy, and you keep yours.’ 

‘I ’m afraid that this affair may be found out, Mesty ; 
the woman will spread the report of having been attacked 
by a black friar, and that will lead to suspicion, as the 
other friars of the convent knew that you left with Father 
Thomaso.’ 

‘So I tink dat, but when a man starve, he quite forget 
his thought.’ 

‘I don’t blame you; but now I must talk to Don Philip.’ 

‘Suppose you no objection, while you talk I eat some- 
thing from the table then, Massa Easy, for I hungry 
enough to eat de friar, mule and all.’ 

‘Eat, my good fellow, and drink as much as you please.’ 

The consultation between our two midshipmen and Don 
Philip was not long : they perceived the immediate ne- 
cessity for the departure of Mesty, and the suspicion 
which would attach to themselves. Don Philip and Agnes 
left them, to go to Don Rebiera, and make him acquainted 
with what had passed, and to ask his advice. 

When they went into the room, Don Rebiera imme- 
diately accosted his son. 

‘Have you heard, Philip, that Friar Thomaso has re- 
turned at last ? — so the servants tell me.’ 

‘The report may be fortunate,’ replied Don Philip; ‘but I 
have another story to tell you.’ 

He then sat down and imparted to Don Rebiera all the 
adventures of Mesty. Don Rebiera was for some time in deep 
thought ; at last he replied, 

‘That Don Silvio is no more is fortunate, and the negro 
would be entitled to reward for his destruction— but for the 
friar, that is a bad business. The negro might remain and 

310 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


tell the whole story, and the facts might be proved by the 
evidence of Signor Easy and the letters ; but what then ? we 
should raise the whole host of the clergy against our house, 
and we have suffered too much from them already; the best 
plan would be the immediate departure, not only of the negro, 
but of our two young friends. The supposition of Friar 
Thomaso being here, and their departure with the negro 
servant to rejoin their ship, will remove much suspicion and 
destroy all inquiry. They must be off immediately. Go to 
them, Philip, and point out to them the absolute necessity of 
this measure, and tell our young friend that I rigidly adhere 
to my promise, and as soon as he has his father’s sanction I will 
bestow upon him my daughter. In the meantime I will send 
down and see if a vessel can be chartered for Malta.’ 

Our hero and Gascoigne fully admitted the wisdom of this 
measure and prepared for their departure; indeed, now that 
Don Rebiera’s resolution had been made known to our hero, 
he cared more for obtaining his father’s consent than he did 
for remaining to enjoy himself at Palermo, and before noon 
of the next day all was ready, the vessel had been procured. 
Jack took his leave of Agnes and her mother, and, accompanied 
by Don Rebiera and Don Philip (for Don Martin was on 
duty a few miles from Palermo), went down to the beach, and 
having bid them farewell embarked with Gascoigne and Mesty 
on board of the two-masted lateen which had been engaged, 
and before sunset not a steeple of Palermo was to be seen. 

‘What are you thinking of. Jack?’ said Gascoigne, after 
our hero had been silent half-an-hour. 

‘I have been thinking, Ned, that we are well out of it. 

‘So do 1/ replied Gascoigne; and here the conversation 
dropped for a time. 

‘What are you thinking of now, Jack?’ said Gascoigne, 
after a long pause. 

‘I’ve been thinking that I’ve a good story for the old 
Governor.’ 

‘Very true,’ replied Gascoigne; and both were again silent 
for some time. 

‘What are you thinking of now. Jack?’ said Gascoigne, 
after another long interval. 

‘I ’ve been thinking that I shall leave the service,’ replied 
Jack. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


1 wish you would take me with you/ replied Gascoigne 
with a sigh ; and again they were both in deep contemplation. 

‘What are you thinking of now, Jack?’ said Gascoigne 
again. 

‘Of Agnes,’ replied our hero. 

‘Well, if that’s the case I’ll call you when supper is ready. 
In the meantime I’ll go and talk with Mesty/ 


CHAPTER XXXIV 

JACK LEAVES THE SERVICE, IN WHICH HE HAD NO BUSINESS, 
AND GOES HOME TO MIND HIS OWN BUSINESS 

O N the fourth day they arrived at Malta, and our two 
midshipmen, as soon as they had settled with the padrone 
of the vessel, went up to the government-house. They found 
the Governor in the veranda, who held out both his hands, 
one to each. ^ 

‘Glad to see you, my lads. Well, Jack, how’s the leg, 
all right? don’t limp. And your arm, Gascoigne?’ 

‘All right, sir, and as sound as ever it was,’ replied they 
both. 

‘Then you’re in luck, and have made more haste than you 
deserve after your mad pranks; but now sit down, and I 
suppose, my friend Jack, you have a story to tell me.’ 

‘Oh yes, Sir Thomas, and a very long one.’ 

‘Then I won’t have it now, for I expect people on business ; 
we’ll have it after dinner. Get your things up and take 
possession of your rooms. The Aurora sailed four days ago. 
You’ve had a wonderful recovery.’ 

‘Wonderful, sir!’ replied our hero; ‘all Palermo rings 
with it.’ 

‘Well, you may go now— I shall see you at dinner. Wilson 
will be delighted when he hears that you have got round again, 
for he was low-spirited about it, I can tell you, which is 
more than you deserve.’ 


312 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘He’s right there/ said our hero to Gascoigne as they 
walked away. 

When dinner was over, Jack narrated to the Governor the 
adventures of Mesty, with which he was much interested ; but 
when they were quite alone in the evening, the Governor 
called our two midshipmen into the veranda and said, 

‘Now, my lads, Fm not going to preach, as the saying is, 
but Fve been long enough in the world to know that a com- 
pound fracture of the leg is not cured in fourteen or sixteen 
days. I ask you to tell me the truth. Did not you deceive 
Captain Wilson on this point?’ 

‘I am ashamed to say that we did, sir,’ replied Easy. 

‘How did you manage that, and why?’ 

Jack then went into further details relative to himself and 
his amour, stating his wish to be left behind and all that had 
passed. 

‘Well, there’s some excuse for you, but none for the 
surgeons. If any surgeon here had played such a trick, I 
would have hung him, as sure as Fm Governor. This affair 
of yours has become serious. Mr. Easy, we must have some 
conversation on the matter to-morrow morning.’ 

The next morning the packet from England was reported 
off the harbour’s mouth. After breakfast the letters were 
brought on shore, and the Governor sent for our hero. 

‘Mr. Easy, here are two letters for you, I am sorry to say 
with black seals. I trust that they do not bring the intelligence 
of the death of any very near relative.’ 

Jack bowed without speaking, took the letters, and went to 
his room. The first he opened was from his father. 

‘My dear John,— You will be much grieved to hear that 
your poor mother, after sitting in the corner for nearly two 
years waiting for the millennium, appeared to pine away; 
whether from disappointment or not, I do not know; but at 
last, in spite of all Dr. Middleton could do, she departed this 
life; and, as the millennium would not come to her as she 
expected, it is to be hoped she has gone to the millennium. 
She was a good wife, and I always let her have her own way. 
Dr. Middleton does not appear to be satisfied as to the cause 
of her death, and has wished to examine ; but I said no, for I 

313 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


am a philosopher, and it is no use looking for causes after 
effects ; but I have done since her death what she never would 
permit me to do during her life. I have had her head shaved, 
and examined it very carefully as a phrenologist, and most 
curiously has she proved the truth of the sublime science. I 
will give you the result. Determination, very prominent; 
Benevolence, small,*' Caution, extreme; Veneration, not very 
great; Philoprogenitiveness, strange to say, is very large, 
considering she has but one child ; Imagination, very strong : 
you know, my dear boy, she was always imagining some 
nonsense or another. Her other organs were all moderate. 
Poor dear creature ! she is gone, and we may well wail, for a 
better mother or a better wife never existed. And now, my 
dear boy, I must request that you call for your discharge; and 
come home as soon as possible. I cannot exist without you, 
and I require your assistance in the grand work I have in 
contemplation. The time is at hand, the cause of equality 
will soon triumph; the abject slaves now hold up their heads; 
I have electrified them with my speeches, but I am getting old 
and feeble; I require my son to leave my mantle to, as one 
prophet did to another, and then I will, like him, ascend in 
glory. — Your affectionate Father, 

Nicodemus Easy.’ 

From this it would appear, thought Jack, that my mother 
is dead and that my father is mad. For some time our hero 
remained in a melancholy mood; he dropped many tears to 
the memory of his mother, whom, if he had never respected, 
he had much loved ; and it was not till half-an-hour had 
elapsed that he thought of opening the other letter. It was 
from Dr. Middleton. 

‘My dear Boy, — Although not a correspondent of yours, I 
take the right of having watched you through all your child- 
hood, and from a knowledge of your disposition, to write you 
a few lines. That you have by this time discarded your father’s 
foolish, nonsensical philosophy, I am very sure. It was I 
who advised your going away for that purpose, and I am sure 
that, as a young man of sense and the heir to a large property, 
you will before this have seen the fallacy of your father s 
doctrines. Your father tells me that he has requested you to 

314 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


come home, and allow me to add any weight I may have with 
you in persuading you to do the same. It is fortunate for you 
that the estate is entailed, or you might soon be a beggar, 
for there is no saying what debts he might, in his madness, 
be guilty of. He has already been dismissed from the 
magistracy by the lord-lieutenant, in consequence of his 
haranguing the discontented peasantry, and, I may say, 
exciting them to acts of violence and insubordination. He 
has been seen dancing and hurrahing round a stack fired by 
an incendiary. He has turned away his keepers, and allowed 
all poachers to go over the manor. In short, he is not in his 
senses ; and although I am far from advising coercive 
measures, I do consider that it is absolutely necessary that you 
should immediately return home and look after what will 
one day be your property. You have no occasion to follow 
the profession with eight thousand pounds per annum. You 
have distinguished yourself, now make room for those who 
require it for their subsistence. God bless you. I shall soon 
hope to shake hands with you.— Yours most truly, 

'G. Middleton.’ 

There was matter for deep reflection in these two letters, 
and Jack never felt before how much his father had been in 
the wrong. That he had gradually been weaned from his 
ideas was true, but still he had, to a certain degree, clung to 
them, as we do to a habit ; but now he felt that his eyes were 
opened : the silly, almost unfeeling, letter of his father upon 
the occasion of his mother’s death opened his eyes. For a 
long while Jack was in a melancholy meditation, and then, 
casting his eyes upon his watch, he perceived that it was 
almost dinner-time. That he could eat his dinner was certain, 
and he scorned to pretend to feel what he did not. He there- 
fore dressed himself and went down, grave, it is true, but not 
in tears. He spoke little at dinner, and retired as soon as it 
was over, presenting his two letters to the Governor, and ask- 
ing his advice for the next morning. Gascoigne followed him, 
and to him he confided his trouble, and Ned, finding that Jack 
was very low-spirited, consoled him to the best of his power, 
and brought a bottle of wine which he procured from the 
butler. Before they retired to bed. Jack had given his ideas 
to ^his friend, which were approved of. and wishing him a 

315 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


good-night, he threw himself into bed and was soon fast 
asleep. 

‘One thing is certain, my good fellow,’ observed the 
Governor to our hero, as he gave him back his letters at the 
breakfast-table the next morning : ‘that your father is as mad 
as a March hare. I agree with that doctor, who appears a 
sensible man, that you had better go home immediately.’ 

‘And leave the service altogether, sir?’ replied Jack. 

‘Why, I must say that I do not think you exactly fitted for 
it. I shall be sorry to lose you, as you have a wonderful 
talent for adventure, and I shall have no more yarns to hear 
when you return; but, if I understand right from Captain 
Wilson, you were brought into the profession because he 
thought that the service might be of use in eradicating false 
notions, rather than from any intention or necessity of your 
following it up as a profession.’ 

‘I suspect that was the case, sir,’ replied Jack; ‘as for my 
own part, I hardly know why I entered it.’ 

‘To find a mare’s nest, my lad ; I’ve heard all about it ; but 
never mind that, the question is now about your leaving it to 
look after your own property, and I think I may venture to say 
that I can arrange all that matter at once, without referring 
to admiral or captain. I will be responsible for you, and you 
may go home in the packet which sails on Wednesday for 
England.’ 

‘Thank you. Sir Thomas, I am much obliged to you,’ 
replied Jack. 

‘You, Mr. Gascoigne, I shall, of course, send out by the 
first opportunity to rejoin your ship.’ 

‘Thank you. Sir Thomas, I am much obliged to you,’ 
replied Gascoigne, making a bow. 

‘You’ll break no more arms, if you please, sir,’ continued 
the Governor; ‘a man in love may have some excuse for 
breaking his leg, but you had none.’ 

‘I beg your pardon, sir; if Mr. Easy was warranted in 
breaking his leg out of love, I submit that I could do no less 
than break my arm out of friendship.’ 

‘Hold your tongue, sir, or I’ll break your head from the very 
opposite feeling,’ replied the Governor, good-humouredly. 
‘But observe, young man, I shall keep this affair secret, as in 

316 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


honour bound, but let me advise you, as you have only your 
profession to look to, to follow it up steadily. It is high time 
that you and Mr. Easy were separated. He is independent of 
the service, and you are not. A young man possessing such 
ample means will never be fitted for the duties of a junior 
officer. He can do no good for himself, and is certain to do 
much harm to others : a continuance of his friendship would 
probably end in your ruin, Mr. Gascoigne. You must be 
aware that if the greatest indulgence had not been shown to 
Mr. Easy by his captain and first lieutenant, he never could 
have remained in the service so long as he has done.’ 

As the Governor made the last remark in rather a severe 
tone, our two midshipmen were silent for a minute. At last 
Jack observed very quietly, 

‘And yet, sir, I think, considering all, I have behaved 
pretty well.’ 

‘You have behaved very well, my good lad, on all occasions 
in which your courage and conduct, as an officer, have been 
called forth. I admit it; and had you been sent to sea with 
a mind properly regulated, and without such an unlimited 
command of money, I have no doubt but that you would have 
proved an ornament to the service. Even now I think you 
would, if you were to remain in the service under proper 
guidance and necessary restrictions, for you have, at least, 
learnt to obey, which is absolutely necessary before you are 
fit to command. But recollect, what would your conduct 
have brought upon you if you had not been under the parental 
care of Captain Wilson ? But let us say no more about that ; 
a midshipman with the prospect of eight thousand pounds a 
year is an anomaly which the service cannot admit, especially 
when that midshipman is resolved to take to himself a wife.’ 

‘I hope that you approve of that step, sir.’ 

‘That entirely depends upon the merit of the party, which 
I know nothing of, except that she has a pretty face, and is of 
one of the best Sicilian families. I think the difference of 
religion a ground of objection.’ 

‘We will argue that point, sir,’ replied Jack. 

‘Perhaps it will be the cause of more argument than you 
think for, Mr. Easy ; but every man makes his own bed, and 
as he makes it, so must he lie down in it.’ 

317 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


What am I to do about Mesty, sir? I cannot bear the 
idea of parting with him.' 

'I am afraid that you must; I cannot well interfere there.' 

'He is of little use to the service, sir; he has been sent 
to sick quarters as my servant: if he may be permitted to 
go home with me, I will procure his discharge as soon 
as I arrive, and send him on board the guard-ship till I 
obtain it.' 

'I think that, on the whole, he is as well out of the service 
as in it, and therefore I will, on consideration, take upon 
myself the responsibility, provided you do as you say.' 

The conversation was here ended, as the Governor had 
business to attend to, and Jack and Gascoigne went to their 
rooms to make their arrangements. 

'The Governor is right,' observed Gascoigne; ‘it is better 
that we part. Jack. You have half unfitted me for the service 
already ; I have a disgust of the midshipmen's berth, the very 
smell of pitch and tar has become odious to me. This is all 
wrong; I must forget you and all our pleasant cruises on 
shore, and once more swelter in my greasy jacket. When I 
think that if our pretended accidents were discovered, I should 
be dismissed the service, and the misery which that would 
cause to my poor father, I tremble at my escape. The 
Governor is right. Jack; we must part, but I hope you never 
will forget me.' 

'My hand upon it, Ned. Command my interest, if ever I 
have any — my money — what I have, and the house, whether 
it belongs to me or my father — as far as you are concerned at 
least, I adhere to my notions of perfect equality.' 

'And abjure them, I trust. Jack, as a universal principle.' 

'I admit, as the Governor asserts, that my father is as mad 
as a March hare.' 

'That is sufficient; you don't know how glad it makes me 
to hear you say that.' 

The two friends were inseparable during the short time 
that they remained together. They talked over their future 
prospects, their hopes and anticipations, and when the con- 
versation flagged, Gascoigne brought up the name of Agnes. 

Mesty's delight at leaving the service and going home with 
his patron was indescribable. He laid out a portion of his 

318 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


gold in a suit of plain clothes, white linen shirts, and in 
every respect the wardrobe of a man of fashion : in fact, he 
was now a complete gentleman’s gentleman ; was very 
particular in frizzing his woolly hair— wore a white neck- 
cloth, gloves, and cane. Every one felt inclined to laugh when 
he made his appearance ; but there was something in Mesty’s 
look which, at all events, prevented their doing so before his 
face. The day for sailing arrived. Jack took leave of the 
Governor, thanking him for his great kindness, and stating 
his intention of taking Malta in his way out to Palermo in a 
month or two. Gascoigne went on board with him, and did 
not go down the vessel’s side till it was more than a mile clear 
of the harbour. 


CHAPTER XXXV 

MR. EASY^S WONDERFUL INVENTION FULLY EXPLAINED BY 

HIMSELF— MUCH TO THE SATISFACTION OF OUR HERO, AND, 

IT IS TO BE PRESUMED, TO THAT ALSO OF THE READER 

AT last the packet anchored in Falmouth Roads. Jack, 
JLjL accompanied by Mesty, was soon on shore with his 
luggage, threw himself into the mail, arrived in London, and 
waiting there two or three days to obtain what he considered 
necessary from a fashionable tailor, ordered a chaise to Forest 
Hill. He had not written to his father to announce his 
arrival, and it was late in the morning when the chaise drew 
up at his father’s door. 

Jack stepped out and rang the bell. The servants who 
opened the door did not know him; they were not the same 
as those he left. 

Where is Mr. Easy?’ demanded Jack. 

Who are you ?’ replied one of the men, in a gruff tone. 

'By de powers, you very soon find out who he is,’ observed 
Mesty. 

'Stay here, and I’ll see if he is at home.’ 

'Stay here! stay in the hall like a footman? What do 

319 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


you mean, you rascal?’ cried Jack, attempting to push by 
the man. 

‘Oh, that won’t do here, master ; this is Equality Hall — one 
man’s as good as another.’ 

‘Not always,’ replied Jack, knocking him down. ‘Take 
that for your insolence, pack up your traps, and walk out of 
the house to-morrow morning.’ 

Mesty, in the meantime, had seized the other by the throat. 

‘What I do with this fellow, Massa Easy ?’ 

‘Leave him now, Mesty; we’ll settle their account to- 
morrow morning. I presume I shall find my father in the 
library.’ 

‘His father!’ said one of the men to the other, ‘he’s not 
exactly a chip of the old block.’ 

‘We shall have a change, I expect,’ replied the other, as 
they walked away. 

‘Mesty,’ cried Jack, in an authoritative tone, ‘bring those 
two rascals back to take the luggage out of the chaise ; pay 
the postilion, and tell the housekeeper to show you my room 
and yours. Come to me for orders as soon as you have done 
this.’ 

‘Yes, sir,’ replied Mesty. ‘Now come here, you d — n 
blackguards, and take tings out of chaise, or by de holy poker 
I choke your luff, both of you.’ 

The filed teeth, the savage look, and determination of 
Mesty had the due effect. The men sullenly returned and 
unloaded the chaise. In the meantime, Jack walked into his 
father’s study; his father was there — the study was lighted 
up with argand lamps, and Jack looked with astonishment. 
Mr. Easy was busy with a plaster cast of a human head, 
which he pored over, so that he did not perceive the entrance 
of his son. The cast of the skull was .divided into many 
compartments, with writing on each ; but what most 
astonished our hero was the alteration in the apartment. The 
book-cases and books had all been removed, and in the centre, 
suspended from the ceiling, was an apparatus which would 
have puzzled any one, composed of rods in every direction, 
with screws at the end of them, and also tubes in equal 
number, one of which communicated with a large air-pump, 
which stood on a table. Jack took a short survey, and then 
walked up to his father and accosted him. 

320 



‘‘Not always,” replied Jack, knocking him down 



* 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘What!’ exclaimed Mr. Easy, ‘is it possible? — yes, it is 
my son John 1 I’m glad to see you, John, — very glad indeed,’ 
continued the old gentleman, shaking him by both hands— 
‘very glad that you have come home : I wanted you — wanted 
your assistance in my great and glorious project, which, I 
thank Heaven, is now advancing rapidly. Very soon shall 
equality and the rights of man be proclaimed everywhere. 
The pressure from without is enormous, and the bulwarks* of 
our ridiculous and tyrannical constitution must give way. 
Kings, lords and aristocrats ; landholders, tithe-collectors. 
Church and State, thank God, will soon be overthrown, and 
the golden age revived — the millennium, the true millennium 
—not what your poor mother talked about. I am at the head 
of twenty-nine societies, and if my health lasts, you will see 
what I will accomplish now that I have your assistance. Jack’; 
and Mr. Easy’s eyes sparkled and flashed in all the brilliancy 
of incipient insanity. 

Jack sighed, and to turn the conversation he observed, 
‘You have made a great change in this room, sir. What may 
all this be for? Is it a machine to improve equality and the 
rights of man?’ 

‘My dear son,’ replied Mr. Easy, sitting down, and crossing 
his legs complacently, with his two hands under his right thigh, 
according to his usual custom when much pleased with him- 
self, — ‘why, my dear son, that is not exactly the case, and yet 
you have shown some degree of perception even in your 
guess ; for if my invention succeeds, and I have no doubt of it, 
I shall have discovered the great art of rectifying the mistakes 
of nature, and giving an equality of organisation to the whole 
species, of introducing all the finer organs of humanity, 
and of destroying the baser. It is a splendid invention. 
Jack, very splendid. They may talk of Gall and Spurzheim, 
and all those; but what have they done? nothing but divided 
the brain into sections, classed the organs, and discovered 
where they reside; but what good result has been gained 
from that ? the murderer by nature remained a murderer— the 
benevolent man, a benevolent man— he could not alter his 
organisation. I have found out how to change all that.’ 

‘Surely, sir, you would not interfere with the organ of 
benevolence ?’ 

‘But indeed I must. Jack. I myself am suffering from 
321 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


my organ of benevolence being too large; I must reduce it, 
and then I shall be capable of greater things, shall not be so 
terrified by difficulties, shall overlook trifles, and only carry 
on great schemes for universal equality and the supreme 
rights of man. I have put myself into that machine every 
morning for two hours, for these last three months, and I feel 
now that I am daily losing a great portion.’ 

Will you do me the favour to explain an invention so 
extraordinary, sir ?’ said our hero. 

‘Most willingly, my boy. You observe that in the centre 
there is a frame to confine the human head, somewhat larger 
than the head itself, and that the head rests upon the iron 
collar beneath. When the head is thus firmly fixed, suppose 
I want to reduce the size of any particular organ, I take the 
boss corresponding to where that organ is situated in the 
cranium, and fix it on it. For you will observe that all the 
bosses inside of the top of the frame correspond to the organs 
as described in this plaster cast on the table. I then screw 
down pretty tight, and increase the pressure daily, until the 
organ disappears altogether, or is reduced to the size required.’ 

‘I comprehend that part perfectly, sir,’ replied Jack; ‘bjLit 
now explain to me by what method you contrive to raise an 
organ which does not previously exist.’ 

‘That,’ replied Mr. Easy, ‘is the greatest perfection of the 
whole invention, for without I could do that, I could have 
done little. I feel convinced that this invention of mine will 
immortalise me. Observe all these little bell-glasses which 
communicate with the air-pump. I shave my patient’s head, 
grease it a little, and fix on the bell-glass, which is exactly 
shaped to fit the organ in length and breadth. I work the air- 
pump, and raise the organ by an exhausted receiver. It can- 
not fail. There is my butler, now ; a man who escaped hang- 
ing last spring assizes on an undoubted charge of murder. I 
selected him on purpose; I have flattened down murder to 
nothing, and I have raised benevolence till it’s like a wen.’ 

‘I am afraid my poor father’s head is an exhausted receiver,’ 
thought Jack, who then replied, ‘Well, sir, if it succeeds it 
will be a good invention.’ 

‘If it succeeds !— why, it has succeeded— it cannot fail. It 
has cost me near two thousand pounds. By the bye. Jack, 

322 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


you have drawn very liberally lately, and I had some trouble, 
with my own expenses, to meet your bills ; not that I complain 
—but what with societies, and my machine, and tenants 
refusing to pay their rents on the principles that the farms 
are no more mine than theirs, which I admit to be true, I 
have had some difficulty in meeting all demands.’ 

‘The Governor was right,’ thought Jack, who now inquired 
after Dr. Middleton. 

‘Ah, poor silly man ! he’s alive yet — I believe doing well. 
He is one who will interfere with the business of others, 
complains of my servants— very silly man indeed— but I let 
him have his own way. So I did your poor mother. Silly 
woman, Mrs. Easy — but never mind that.’ 

‘If you please, sir, I have also a complaint to make of the 
servants for their insolence to me : but we will adjourn, if 
you please, as I wish to have some refreshment.’ 

‘Certainly, Jack, if you are hungry; I will go with you. 
Complain of my servants, say you?— there must be some 
mistake— they are all shaved, and wear wigs, and I put them 
in the machine every other morning; but I mean to make an 
alteration in one respect. You observe. Jack, it requires more 
dignity : we must raise the whole machinery some feet, 
ascend it with state as a throne, for it is the throne of reason, 
the victory of mind over nature.’ 

‘As you please, sir ; but I am really hungry just now.’ 

Jack and his father went into the drawing-room and rang 
the bell; not being answered. Jack rose and rang again. 

‘My dear sir,’ observed Mr. Easy, ‘you must not be in a 
hurry ; every man naturally provides for his own wants first, 
and afterwards for those of others. Now my servants ’ 

‘Are a set of insolent scoundrels, sir, and insolence I never 
permit. I knocked one down as I entered your house, and, 
with your permission, I will discharge two, at least, to- 
morrow.’ 

‘My dear son,’ exclaimed Mr. Easy, ‘you knocked my 
servant down!— are you not aware by the laws of equality 

f 

‘I am aware of this, my dear father,’ replied Jack; ‘that 
by all the laws of society we have a right to expect civility 
and obedience from those we pay and feed.’ 

323 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Tay and feed! Why, my dear son— my dear Jack— you 
must recollect ’ 

‘I recollect, sir, very well ; but if your servants do not come 
to their recollection in a very short time, either I or they must 
quit the house/ 

‘But, my dear boy, have you forgotten the principles I 
instilled into you? Did you not go to sea to obtain that 
equality foiled by tyranny and despotism here on shore ? Do 
you not acknowledge and support my philosophy?’ 

‘We’ll argue that point to-morrow, sir — at present I want 
to obtain my supper’ ; and Jack rang the bell furiously. 

The butler made his appearance at this last summons, and 
he was followed by Mesty, who looked like a demon with 
anger. 

‘Mercy on me, whom have we here?’ 

‘My servant, father,’ exclaimed Jack, starting up; ‘one 
that I can trust to, and who will obey me. Mesty, I wish 
some supper and wine to be brought immediately — see that 
scoundrel gets it ready in a moment. If he does not, throw 
him out of the door, and lock him out. You understand me.’ 

‘Yes, massa,’ grinned Mesty; ‘now you hab supper very 
quick, or Mesty know the reason why. Follow me, sar,’ 
cried Mesty in an imperative tone to the butler; ‘quick, sar, 
or by de holy poker, I show you what Mesty can do’; and 
Mesty grinned in his wrath. 

‘Bring supper and wine immediately,’ said Mr. Easy, giving 
an order such as the butler had never heard since he had been 
in the house. 

The butler quitted the room followed by the Ashantee. 

‘My dear boy — my Jack — I can make every allowance for 
hunger, it is often the cause of theft and crime in the present 
unnatural state of society— but really you are too violent. 
The principles ’ 

‘Your principles are all confounded nonsense, father,’ cried 
Jack in a rage. 

‘What! Jack— my son— what do I hear? This from you 
—nonsense! Why, Jack, what has Captain Wilson been 
doing with you?’ 

‘Bringing me to my senses, sir/ 

324 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


^Oh dear, oh dear! my dear Jack, you will certainly make 
me lose mine." 

'Gone already," thought Jack. 

'That you, my child, so carefully brought up in the great 
and glorious school of philosophy, should behave this way— 
should be so violent— forget your sublime philosophy and all 
—just like Esau selling your birthright for a mess of pottage. 
O Jack, you’ll kill me ! and yet I love you. Jack— whom else 
have I to love in this world? Never mind, we’ll argue the 
point, my boy, I ’ll convince you— in a week all will be right 
again." 

'It shall, sir, if I can manage it," replied Jack. 

'That"s right, I love to hear you say so — that"s consoling, 
very consoling — but I think now I was wrong to let you go to 
sea. Jack." 

'Indeed you were not, father." 

'Well, I "m glad to hear you say so; I thought they had 
ruined you, destroyed all your philosophy— but it will be all 
right again — you shall come to our societies. Jack— I am 
president— you shall hear me speak. Jack — you shall hear me 
thunder like Demosthenes— but here comes the tray." 

The butler, followed by Mesty, who attended him as if he 
was his prisoner, now made his appearance with the tray— 
laid it down in a sulky manner and retired. Jack desired 
Mesty to remain. 

'Well, Mesty, how are they getting on in the servants" hall ?’ 

'Regular mutiny, sar— ab swear dat dey no stand our 
nonsense, and dat we both leave the house to-morrow." 

'Do you hear, sir, your servants declare that I shall leave 
your house to-morrow." 

'You leave my house, Jack, after four years" absence I— no, 
no. I ’ll reason with them — I ’ll make them a speech. You 
don’t know how I can speak. Jack." 

'Look you, father, I cannot stand this; either give me a 
carte blanche to arrange this household as I please, or I shall 
quit it myself to-morrow morning." 

'Quit my house, Jack! no, no— shake hands and make 
friends with them ; be civil and they will serve you— but you 
know upon the principles " 


325 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Principles of the devil !’ cried Jack in a rage. 

^Of the devil, Jack; dear me! I wish you had never gone 
to sea.’ 

^In one word, sir, do you consent, or am I to leave the 
house ? 

‘Leave the house! Oh no; not leave the house. Jack. I 
have no son but you. Then do as you please — but you must 
not send away my murderer, for I must have him cured, and 
shown as a proof of my wonderful invention.’ 

‘Mesty, get my pistols ready for to-morrow morning, and 
your own too— do ye hear?’ 

‘All ready, massa,’ replied Mesty ; ‘I tink dat right.’ 

‘Right— pistols. Jack! What do you mean?’ 

‘It is possible, father, that you may not have yet quite 
cured your murderer, and therefore it is as well to be prepared. 
I will now wish you good-night; but before I go, you will be 
pleased to summon one of the servants that he may inform the 
others that the household is under my control for the future.’ 

The bell was again rung, and was this time answered with 
more expedition. Jack told the servant, in presence of his 
father, that, with the consent of the latter, he should hereafter 
take the whole control of the establishment, and that Mesty 
would be the major-domo from whom they would receive 
their orders. The man stared and cast an appealing look to 
Mr. Easy, who hesitated, and at last said, 

‘Yes, William.; you’ll apologise to all, and say that I have 
made the arrangement.’ 

‘You apologise to none, sir,’ cried Jack ; ‘but tell them that 
I will arrange the whole business to-morrow morning. Tell 
the woman to come here and show me my bedroom. Mesty, 
get your supper and then come up to me; if they dare to 
refuse you, recollect who does, and point them out to-morrow 
morning. That will do, sir; away with you, and bring flat 
candlesticks.’ 


326 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER XXXVI 

IN WHICH JACK TAKES UP THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ARGUMENT, 
AND PROVES THAT HE CAN ARGUE AS WELL ON ONE SIDE AS 
THE OTHER 

T his scene may give some idea of the state of Mr. Easy’s 
household upon our hero’s arrival. The poor lunatic, 
for such we must call him, was at the mercy of his servants, 
who robbed, laughed at, and neglected him. The waste and 
expense were enormous. Our hero, who found how matters 
stood, went to bed, and lay the best part of the night resolving 
what to do. He determined to send for Dr. Middleton, and 
consult him. 

The next morning Jack rose early; Mesty was in the room, 
with warm water, as soon as he rang. 

^By de power, Massa Easy, your fader very silly old man.’ 
T ’m afraid so,’ replied Jack. 

'He not right here,’ observed Mesty, putting his fingers to 
his head. 

Jack sighed, and desired Mesty to send one of the grooms 
up to the door. When the man knocked he desired him to 
mount a horse and ride over to Dr. Middleton, and request his 
immediate attendance. 

The man, who was really a good servant, replied, 'Yes, sir,’ 
very respectfully, and hastened away. 

Jack went down to breakfast, and found it all ready, but 
his father was not in the room: he went to his study, and 
found him occupied with a carpenter, who was making a sort 
of frame as a model of the platform or dais to be raised under 
the wonderful invention. Mr. Easy was so busy that he could 
not come to breakfast, so Jack took his alone. An hour after 
this Dr. Middleton’s carriage drove up to the door. The 
doctor heartily greeted our hero. 

'My dear sir — for so I suppose I must now call you— I am 
heartily glad that you have returned. I can assure you that 
it is not a moment too soon.’ 

'I have found out that already, doctor,’ replied Jack; 'sit 
down. Have you breakfasted ?’ 

327 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


*No, I have not; for I was so anxious to see you, that I 
ordered my carriage at once.’ 

‘Then sit down, doctor, and we will talk over matters 
quietly.’ 

‘You, of course, perceive the state of your father. He 
has been some time quite unfit to manage his own affairs.’ 

‘So I am afraid.’ 

‘What do you intend to do then— put them in the hands 
of trustees ?’ 

‘I will be trustee for myself. Dr. Middleton. I could not 
do the other without submitting my poor father to a process 
and confinement which I cannot think of.’ 

‘I can assure you that there are not many in Bedlam worse 
than he is; but I perfectly agree with you; that is, if he will 
consent to your taking charge of the property.’ 

‘A power of attorney will be all that is requisite,’ replied 
Jack; ‘that is, as soon as I have rid the house of the set of 
miscreants who are in it, and who are now in open mutiny.’ 

‘I think,’ replied the doctor, ‘that you will have some 
trouble. You know the character of the butler.’ 

‘Yes, I have it from my father’s own mouth. I really 
should take it as a great favour. Dr. Middleton, if you could 
stay here a day or two. I know that you have retired from 
practice.’ 

‘I would have made the same offer, my young friend. I 
will come here with two of my servants; for you must 
discharge these.’ 

‘I have one of my own who is worth his weight in gold — 
that will be sufficient. I will dismiss every man you think I 
ought, and as for the women, we can give them warning, and 
replace them at leisure.’ 

‘That is exactly what I should propose,’ replied the doctor. 
‘I will now go, if you please, procure the assistance of a couple 
of constables, and also of your father’s former legal adviser, 
who shall prepare a power of attorney.’ 

‘Yes,’ replied Jack, ‘and we must then find out the tenants 
who refuse to pay upon the principles of equality, and he shall 
serve them with notice immediately.’ 

‘I am rejoiced, my dear young friend, to perceive that your 
father’s absurd notions have not taken root.’ 

328 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


They lasted some time nevertheless, doctor,’ replied Jack, 
laughing. 

‘Well then, I will only quit you for an hour or two, and 
then, as you wish it, will take up my quarters here as long as 
you find me useful.’ 

In the forenoon Dr. Middleton again made his appearance, 
accompanied by Mr. Hanson, the solicitor, bringing with him 
his portmanteau and his servants. Mr. Easy had come into 
the parlour, and was at breakfast when they entered. He 
received them very coolly; but a little judicious praise of the 
wonderful invention had its due effect; and after Jack had 
reminded him pf his promise that in future he was to control 
the household, he was easily persuaded to sign the order for 
his so doing— that is, the power of attorney. 

Mr. Easy also gave up to Jack the key of his secretary, and 
Mr. Hanson possessed himself of the books, papers, and 
receipts necessary to ascertain the state of his affairs, and the 
rents which had not yet been paid up. In the meantime the 
constables arrived. The servants were all summoned; Mr. 
Hanson showed them the power of attorney empowering 
Jack to act for his father, and in less than half-an-hour 
afterwards all the men-servants but two grooms were dis- 
missed : the presence of the constables and Mesty prevented 
any resistance, but not without various threats on the part of 
the butler, whose name was O’Rourke. Thus, in twenty-four 
hours. Jack had made a reformation in the household. 

Mr. Easy took no notice of anything; he returned to his 
study and his wonderful invention. Mesty had received the 
keys of the cellar, and had now complete control over those 
who remained. Dr. Middleton, Mr. Hanson, Mr. Easy, and 
Jack sat down to dinner, and everything wore the appearance 
of order and comfort. Mr. Easy ate very heartily, but said 
nothing till after dinner, when, as was his usual custom, he 
commenced arguing upon the truth and soundness of his 
philosophy. 

‘By the bye, my dear son, if I recollect right, you told me 
last night that you were no longer of my opinion. Now, if 
you please, we will argue this point.’ 

‘I ’ll argue the point with all my heart, sir,’ replied Jack ; 
‘will you begin?’ 


329 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

‘Let’s fill our glasses,’ cried Mr. Easy, triumphantly; ‘let’s 
fill our glasses, and then I will bring Jack to the proper way 
of thinking. Now then, my son, I trust you will not deny 
that we are all born equal.’ 

‘I do deny it, sir,’ replied Jack; ‘I deny it in toto — I deny 
it from the evidence of our own senses, and from the authority 
of Scripture. To suppose all men are born equal is to suppose 
that they are equally endowed with the same strength and with 
the same capacity of mind, which we know is not the case. I 
deny it from Scripture, from which I could quote many 
passages ; but I will restrict myself to one— the parable of the 
Talents. “To one he gave five talents, to another but one,” 
holding them responsible for the trust reposed in them. We 
are all intended to fill various situations in society, and are 
provided by Heaven accordingly.’ 

‘That may be,’ replied Mr. Easy; ‘but that does not prove 
that the earth was not intended to be equally distributed among 
all alike.’ 

‘I beg your pardon; the proof that that was not the 
intention of Providence is that that equality, allowing it to be 
put in practice, could never be maintained.’ 

‘Not maintained !— no, because the strong oppress the weak, 
tyrants rise up and conquer — men combine to do wrong.’ 

‘Not so, my dear father; I say it could not be maintained 
without the organisation of each individual had been 
equalised and several other points established. For instance, 
allowing that every man had, ah originey a certain portion of 
ground, he who was the strongest or the cleverest would soon 
cause his to yield more than others would, and thus the 
equality be destroyed. Again, if one couple had ten children 
and another had none, then again would equality be broken 
in upon, as the land that supported two in the one instance 
would have to feed twelve in the other. You perceive, there- 
fore, that without rapine or injustice your equality could not 
be preserved.’ 

‘But, Jack, allowing that there might be some diversity 
from such causes, that would be a very different thing from 
the present monstrous state of society, in which we have kings, 
and lords, and people rolling in wealth, while others are in a 
state of pauperism and obliged to steal for their daily bread.’ 

330 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘My dear father, I consider that it is to this inequality that 
society owes its firmest cementation, that we are enabled to 
live in peace and happiness, protected by just laws, each doing 
his duty in that state of life to which he is called, rising above 
or sinking in the scale of society according as he has been 
entrusted with the five talents or the one. Equality can and 
does exist nowhere. We are told that it does not exist in 
heaven itself— how can it exist upon earth?’ 

‘But that is only asserted. Jack, and it is not proof that it 
ought not to exist.’ 

‘Let us argue the point, father, coolly. Let us examine a 
little what would be the effect if all was equality. Were all 
equal in beauty, there would be no beauty, for beauty is only 
by comparison — were all equal in strength, conflicts would be 
interminable — were all equal in rank, and power, and 
possessions, the greatest charms of existence would be 
destroyed — generosity, gratitude, and half the finer virtues 
would be unknown. The first principle of our religion, 
charity, could not be practised — pity would never be called 
forth — benevolence, your great organ, would be useless, and 
self-denial a blank letter. Were all equal in ability, there 
would be no instruction, no talent, no genius — nothing to 
admire, nothing to copy, to respect— nothing to rouse 
emulation or stimulate to praiseworthy ambition. Why, my 
dear father, what an idle, unprofitable, weary world would 
this be, if it were based on equality !’ 

‘But, allowing all that. Jack,’ replied Mr. Easy — ‘and I 
will say you argue wJl in a bad cause — why should the in- 
equality be carried so far? kings and lords, for instance.’ 

‘The most lasting and imperishable form of building is 
that of the pyramid, which defies ages, and to that may the 
most perfect form of society be compared. It is based upon 
the many, and rising by degrees, it becomes less as wealth, 
talent, and rank increase in the individual, until it ends at the 
apex, or monarch, above all. Yet each several stone from 
the apex to the base is necessary for the preservation of the 
structure, and fulfils its duty in its allotted place. Could you 
prove that those at the summit possess the greatest share of 
happiness in this world, then indeed you have a position to 
argue on ; but it is well known that such is not the case ; and, 

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MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


provided he is of a contented mind, the peasant is more happy 
than the king, surrounded as the latter is by cares and anxiety.' 

‘Very well argued indeed, my dear sir,' observed Dr. 
Middleton. 

‘But, my dear boy, there are other states of society than 
monarchy; we have republics and despotisms.' 

‘We have, but how long do they last, compared to the 
first? There is a cycle in the changes which never varies. A 
monarchy may be overthrown by a revolution, and republic- 
anism succeed, but that is shortly followed by despotism, till, 
after a time, monarchy succeeds again by unanimous consent, 
as the most legitimate and equitable form of government ; but 
in none of these do you find a single advance to equality. 
In a republic, those who govern are more powerful than the 
rulers in a restricted monarchy — a president is greater than a 
king, and next to a despot, whose will is law. Even in small 
societies you find that some will naturally take the lead 
and assume domination. We commence the system at school, 
when we are first thrown into society, and there we are taught 
systems of petty tyranny. There are some few points in 
which we can obtain equality in this world, and that equality 
can only be obtained under a well-regulated form of society, 
and consists in an equal administration of justice and of 
laws to which we have agreed to submit for the benefit of the 
whole— the equal right to live and not be permitted to starve, 
which has been obtained in this country. And when we are 
all called to account, we shall have equal justice. Now, 
my dear father, you have my opinion.' 

‘Yes, my dear, this is all very well in the abstract; but how 
does it work ?' 

‘It works well. The luxury, the pampered state, the 
idleness — if you please, the wickedness of the rich, all con- 
tribute to the support, the comfort, and employment of the 
poor. You may behold extravagance, it is a vice; but that 
very extravagance circulates money, and the vice of one con- 
tributes to the happiness of many. The only vice which is 
not redeemed by producing commensurate good is avarice. 
If all were equal, there would be no arts, no manufactures,* no 
industry, no employment. As it is, the inequality of the 
distribution of wealth may be compared to the heart, pouring 

332 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


forth the blood like a steam-engine through the human frame, 
the same blood returning from the extremities by the veins, to 
be again propelled, and keep up a healthy and vigorous circu- 
lation.’ 

‘Bravo, Jack !’ said Dr. Middleton. ‘Have you anything 
to reply, sir?’ continued he, addressing Mr. Easy. 

‘To reply, sir?’ replied Mr. Easy with scorn, ‘why, he has 
not given me half an argument yet— that black servant 
even laughs at him— look at him there, showing his teeth. 
Can he forget the horrors of slavery ? can he forget the base, 
unfeeling lash? — no, sir, he has suffered, and he can estimate 
the divine right of equality. Ask him now, ask him if you 
dare. Jack, whether he will admit the truth of your argument.’ 

‘Well, I ’ll ask him,’ replied Jack, ‘and I tell you candidly 
that he was once one of your disciples. Mesty, what’s your 
opinion of equality?’ 

‘Equality, Massa Easy?’ replied Mesty, pulling up his 
cravat; ‘I say d— n equality, now I major-domo.’ 

‘The rascal deserves to be a slave all his life.’ 

‘True, I ab been slave — but I a prince in my own country 
— Massa Easy tell how many skulls I have.’ 

‘Skulls — skulls— do you know anything of the sublime 
science ? are you a phrenologist ?’ 

‘I know man’s skull very well in Ashantee country, anyhow.’ 

‘Then if you know that, you must be one. I had no idea 
that the science had extended so far — maybe it was brought 
from thence. I will have some talk with you to-morrow. 
This is very curious. Doctor Middleton, is it not?’ 

‘Very, indeed, Mr. Easy.’ 

‘I shall feel his head to-morrow after breakfast, and if there 
is anything wrong I shall correct it with my machine. By the 
bye, I have quite forgot, gentlemen ; you will excuse me, but I 
wish to see what the carpenter has done for me, and after that 
I shall attend the meeting of the society. Jack, my boy, won’t 
you come and hear my speech?’ 

‘Thank you, sir, but I cannot well leave your friends.’ 

Mr. Easy quitted the room. 

‘Are you aware, my dear sir, that your father has opened 
his preserves to all the poachers?’ said Mr. Hanson. 

‘The devil he has !’ 

‘Yes, and has allowed several gangs of gypsies to locate 

333 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


themselves in his wcx)ds, much to the annoyance of the 
neighbourhood, who suffer from their depredations,' continued 
Dr. Middleton. 

find, by the receipts and books, that there is nearly two 
years’ rental of the estate due ; some tenants have paid up in 
full, others not for four years. I reckon fourteen thousand 
pounds still in arrear.’ 

‘You will oblige me by taking immediate steps, Mr. Hanson, 
for the recovery of the sums due.’ 

‘Most certainly, Mr. John. I trust your father will not 
commit himself to-night as he has done lately.’ 

When they rose to retire Dr. Middleton took our hero by 
the hand. ‘You do not know, my dear fellow, what pleasure 
it gives me to find that, in spite of the doting of your mother 
and the madness of your father, you have turned out so well. 
It is very fortunate that you have come home ; I trust you will 
now give up the profession.’ 

‘I have given it up, sir, which, by the bye, reminds me 
that I have not applied for either my discharge or that of my 
servant; but I cannot spare time yet, so I shall not report 
myself.’ 


CHAPTER XXXVII 


IN WHICH OUR HERO FINDS HIMSELF AN ORPHAN, AND RE- 
SOLVES TO GO TO SEA AGAIN, WITHOUT THE SMALLEST IDEA 
OF EQUALITY 

HE next morning, when they met at breakfast, Mr. Easy 



X did not make his appearance, and Jack inquired of Mesty 
where he was. 

‘They say down below that the old gentleman not come 
home last night.’ 

‘Did not come home!’ said Dr. Middleton; ‘this must be 
looked to.’ 

‘He great rascal dat butler man,’ said Mesty to Jack; 
*but de old gentleman not sleep in his bed, dat for sure.’ 


334 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘Make inquiries when he went out/ said Jack. 

‘I hope no accident has happened/ observed Dr. Hanson; 
‘but his company has lately been very strange.’ 

‘Nobody see him go out, sar, last night,’ reported Mesty. 

‘Very likely he is in his study,’ observed Dr. Middleton; 
‘he may have remained all night, fast asleep, by his wonder- 
ful invention.’ 

‘I ’ll go and see,’ replied Jack. 

Dr. Middleton accompanied him, and Mesty followed. 
They opened the door, and beheld a spectacle which made 
them recoil with horror. There was Mr. Easy, with his head 
in the machine, the platform below fallen from under him, 
hanging, with his toes just touching the ground. Dr. 
Middleton hastened to him, and, assisted by Mesty and our 
hero, took him out of the steel collar which was round his 
neck; but life had been extinct for many hours, and, on 
examination, it was found that the poor old gentleman’s neck 
was dislocated. 

It was surmised that the accident must have taken place 
the evening before, and it was easy to account for it. 
Mr. Easy, who had had the machine raised four feet higher, 
for the platform and steps to be placed underneath, must 
have mounted on the frame modelled by the carpenter for 
his work, and have fixed his head in, for the knob was pressed 
on his bump of benevolence. The framework, hastily put 
together with a few short nails, had given way with his 
weight, and the sudden fall had dislocated his neck. 

Mr. Hanson led away our hero, who was much shocked 
at this unfortunate and tragical end of his poor father, while 
Dr. Middleton ordered the body to be taken up into a bed- 
room, and immediately despatched a messenger to the coroner 
of the county. Poor Mr. Easy had told his son but the day 
before that he felt convinced that this wonderful invention 
would immortalise him, and so it had, although not exactly in 
the sense that he anticipated. 

We must pass over the few days of sorrow, and closed 
shutters, which always are given to these scenes. The 
coroner’s inquest and, the funeral over, daylight was again 
admitted, our hero’s spirits revived, and he found himself in 
possession of a splendid property and his own master. 

335 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


He was not of age, it is true, for he wanted nine months ; 
but on opening the will of his father, he found that Dr. 
Middleton was his sole guardian. Mr. Hanson, on examining 
and collecting the papers, which were in the greatest confusion, 
discovered bank-notes in different corners, and huddled up 
with bills and receipts, to the amount of two thousand pounds, 
and further, a cheque signed by Captain Wilson on his banker, 
for the thousand pounds advanced by Mr. Easy, dated more 
than fifteen months back. 

Dr. Middleton wrote to the Admiralty, informing them that 
family affairs necessitated Mr. John Easy, who had been left at 
sick quarters, to leave his Majesty’s service, requesting his 
discharge from it forthwith. The Admiralty were graciously 
pleased to grant the request, and lose the services of a mid- 
shipman. The Admiralty were also pleased to grant the 
discharge of Mesty, on the sum required for a substitute being 
paid in. 

The gypsies were routed out of their abodes, and sent once 
more to wander. The gamekeepers were restored, the pre- 
serves cleared of all poachers, and the gentry of the country 
were not a little pleased at Jack’s succession, for they had 
wished that Mr. Easy’s neck had been broken long ago. 
The societies were dissolved, since, now that Mr. Easy no 
longer paid for the beer, there was nothing to meet for. Cards 
and compliments were sent from all parts of the country, and 
every one was anxious that our hero should come of age, 
as then he would be able to marry, to give dinners, subscribe 
to the foxhounds, and live as a gentleman ought to do. 

But during all these speculations Jack had made Dr. 
Middleton acquainted with the history of his amour with 
Agnes de Rebiera, and all particulars connected therewith, also 
with his determination to go out to bring her home as his 
wife. Dr. Middleton saw no objection to the match, and he 
perceived that our hero was sincere. And Jack had made 
inquiries when the packet would sail for Malta, when Mesty, 
who stood behind his chair, observed— 

‘Packet bad vessel, Massa Easy. Why not go out in 
man-of-war ?’ 

‘Very true,’ replied Jack; ‘but you know, Mesty, that is 
not so easy/ 


336 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘And den how come home, sar? Suppose you and Missy 
Agnes taken prisoner— put in prison?’ 

‘Very true,’ replied Jack; and as for a passage home in 
a man-of-war, that will be more difficult still.’ 

‘Den I tink, sar, suppose you buy one fine vessel — plenty 
of guns— take out letter of marque— plenty of men, and 
bring Missy Agnes home like a lady. You captain of your 
own ship.’ 

‘That deserves consideration, Mesty,’ replied Jack, who 
thought of it during that night; and the next day resolved 
to follow Mesty’s advice. The Portsmouth paper lay on the 
breakfast-table. Jack took it up, and his eye was caught by 
an advertisement for the sale of the Joan dJ Arc, prize to 
H.M. ship Thetis, brigantine of 278 tons, copper-bottomed, 
armed en flute, with all her stores, spars, sails, running and 
standing rigging, then lying in the harbour of Portsmouth, to 
take place on the following Wednesday. 

Jack rang the bell, and ordered post-horses. 

‘Where are you going, my dear boy?’ inquired Dr. 
Middleton. 

‘To Portsmouth, doctor.’ 

‘And pray what for, if not an impertinent question ?’ 

Jack then gave Dr. Middleton an insight into his plan, 
and requested that he would allow him to do so, as there 
was plenty of ready money. 

‘But the expense will be enormous.’ 

‘It will be heavy, sir, I grant; but I have calculated it 
pretty nearly, and I shall not spend at the rate of more than 
my income. Besides, as letter of marque, I shall have the 
right of capture; in fact, I mean to take out a privateer’s 
regular license.’ 

‘But not to remain there and cruise?’ 

‘No, upon my honour ; I am too anxious to get home again. 
You must not refuse me, my dear guardian.’ 

‘As a lady is in the case I will not, my dear boy; but be 
careful what you are about.’ 

‘Never fear, sir, I will be back in four months, at the 
furthest; but I must now set off and ascertain if the vessel 
answers the description given in the advertisement.’ 

Jack threw himself into the chariot. Mesty mounted into 

337 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


the rumble, and in two hours they were at Portsmouth ; went 
to the agent, viewed the vessel, which proved to be a very fine 
fast-sailing craft, well found, with six brass carronades on 
each side. The cabins were handsome, fitted up with bird’s-eye 
maple and gilt mouldings. 

This will do, thought Jack; a couple of long brass nines, 
forty men and six boys, and she will be just the thing we 
require. So Mesty and Jack went on shore again, and returned 
to Forest Hill to dinner, when he desired Mr. Hanson to set off 
for Portsmouth, and bid at the sale for the vessel, as he wished 
to purchase her. This was Monday, and on Wednesday Mr. 
Hanson purchased her, as she stood, for £1750, which was 
considered about half her value. 

Dr. Middleton had, in the meantime, been thinking very 
seriously of Jack’s project. He could see no objection to it, 
provided that he was steady and prudent, but in both these 
qualities Jack had not exactly been tried. He therefore 
determined to look out for some steady naval lieutenant, and 
make it a sine qua non that our hero should be accompanied 
by him, and that he should go out as sailing master. Now 
that the vessel was purchased, he informed, Jack of his wish; 
indeed, as Dr. Middleton observed, his duty as guardian 
demanded this precaution, and our hero, who felt very grateful 
to Dr. Middleton, immediately acquiesced. 

‘And by the bye, doctor, see that he is a good navigator; 
for although I can fudge a day’s work pretty well, latterly I 
have been out of practice.’ 

Every one was now busy — ^Jack and Mesty at Portsmouth, 
fitting out the vessel, and offering three guineas a head to the 
crimps for every good, able seaman ; Mr. Hanson obtaining the 
English register and the letters of license ; and Dr. Middleton 
in search of a good naval dry-nurse. Jack found time to 
write to Don Philip and Agnes, apprising them of the death of 
his father, and his intentions. 

In about six weeks all was ready, and the brigantine, which 
had taken out her British register and license under the name 
of the Rehiera, went out of harbour, and anchored at Spithead. 
Dr. Middleton had procured, as he thought, a very fit person to 
sail with Jack, and our hero and Mesty embarked, wishing the 

338 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


doctor and solicitor a good-bye, and leaving them nothing to 
do but to pay the bills. 

The person selected by Dr. Middleton, by the advice of an 
old friend of his, a purser in the navy who lived at Southsea, 
was a Lieutenant Oxbelly, who with the ship’s company which 
had been collected, received our hero as their captain and 
owner upon his arrival on board. There certainly was no 
small contrast between our hero’s active slight figure and 
handsome person, set off with a blue coat something like the 
present yacht-club uniform, and that of his second in com- 
mand, who waddled to the side to receive him. He was a 
very short man, with an uncommon protuberance of stomach, 
with shoulders and arms too short for his body, and hands 
much too large, more like the paws of a polar bear than any- 
thing else. He wore trousers, shoes, and buckles. On his head 
was a foraging cap, which, when he took it off, showed that 
he was quite bald. His age might be about fifty-five or sixty ; 
his complexion florid, no whiskers and little beard, nose 
straight, lips thin, teeth black with chewing, and always a 
little brown dribble from the left corner of his mouth (there 
was a leak there, he said). Altogether his countenance was 
prepossessing, for it was honest and manly, but his waist was 
preposterous. 

Steady enough, thought Jack, as he returned Mr. Oxbelly ’s 
salute. 

'How do you do, sir?’ said Jack. T trust we shall be good 
shipmates,’ for Jack had not seen him before. 

‘Mr. Easy,’ replied the lieutenant, ‘I never quarrel with 
any one, except (I won’t tell a story) with my wife.’ 

‘I am sorry that you have ever domestic dissensions, Mr. 
Oxbelly.’ 

‘And I only quarrel with her at night, sir. She will take 
up more than her share of the bed, and won’t allow me to 
sleep single; but never mind that, sir; now will you please 
to muster the men?’ 

‘If you please, Mr. Oxbelly.’ 

The men were mustered, and Jack made them a long speech 
upon subordination, discipline, activity, duty, and so forth. 

‘A very good speech, Mr. Easy,’ said Mr. Oxbelly as 

339 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


the men went forward; ^I wish my wife had heard it. But, 
sir, if you please, we’ll now get under weigh as fast as we 
can, for there is a Channel cruiser working up at St. Helens, 
and we may give him the go-by by running through the 
Needles.’ 

‘But what need we care for the Channel cruiser?’ 

‘You forget, sir, that as soon as she drops her anchor she 
will come on board and take a fancy to at least ten of our men.’ 

‘But they are protected.’ 

‘Yes, sir, but that’s no protection nowadays. I have 
sailed in a privateer at least three years, and I know that they 
have no respect for letters of marque or for privateers.’ 

‘I believe you are right, Mr. Oxbelly, so if you please we 
will up with the anchor at once.’ 

The crew of the Rebiera had been well chosen; they were 
prime men-of- war’s men, most of whom had deserted from 
the various ships on the station, and, of course, were most 
anxious to be off. In a few minutes the Rebiera was under 
weigh with all sail set below and aloft. She was in excellent 
trim and flew through the water; the wind was fair, and by 
night they had passed Portland Lights, and the next morning 
were steering a course for the Bay of Biscay, without having 
encountered what they feared more than an enemy — a British 
cruiser to overhaul them. 

‘I think we shall do now, sir,’ observed Mr. Oxbelly to our 
hero; ‘we have made a famous run. It’s twelve o’clock, and 
if you please I ’ll work the latitude and let you know what it 
is. We must shape our course so as not to run in with the 
Brest squadron. A little more westing, sir; I ’ll be up in one 
minute. My wife— but I ’ll tell you about that when I come 
up.’ 

‘Latitude 41° 12', sir. I was about to say that my wife, 
when she was on board of the privateer that I commanded ’ 

‘Board of the privateer, Mr. Oxbelly?’ 

‘Yes, sir, would go; told her it was impossible, but she 
wouldn’t listen to reason — came on board, flopp>ed herself into 
the standing bed-place, and said that there she was for the 
cruise,— little Billy with her ’ 

‘What! your child too?’ 

‘Yes, two years old— fine boy — always laughed when the 
340 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


guns were fired, while his mother stood on the ladder and held 
him on the top of the booby-hatch.’ 

‘I wonder that Mrs. Oxbelly let you come here now.’ 

'So you would, sir, but I ’ll explain that— she thinks I ’m in 
London about my half-pay. She knows all by this time, and 
frets, I don’t doubt; but that will make her thin, and then 
there will be more room in the bed. Mrs. Oxbelly is a very 
stout woman.’ 

'Why, you are not a little man!’ 

'No, not little — tending to be lusty, as the saying is— that 
is, in good condition. It’s very strange that Mrs. Oxbelly has 
an idea that she is not large. I cannot persuade her to it. 
That’s the reason we always spar in bed. She says it is I, 
and I know that it is she, who takes the largest share of it.’ 

'Perhaps you may both be right.’ 

'No, no, it is she who creates all the disturbance. If I get 
nearer to the wall she jams me up till I am as thin as a thread- 
paper. If I put her inside and stay outside, she cuts me out 
as you do a cask, by the chime, till I tumble out of bed.’ 

'Why don’t you make your bed larger, Mr. Oxbelly ?’ 

'Sir, I have proposed, but my wife will have it that the bed 
is large enough if I would not toss in my sleep. I can’t 
convince her. However, she ’ll have it all to herself now. I 
slept well last night, for the first time since I left the Boadicea.^ 

'The Boadiceaf 

'Yes, sir, I was second lieutenant of the Boadicea for three 
years.’ 

'She’s a fine frigate, I ’m told.’ 

'On the contrary, such a pinched-up little craft below I 
never saw. Why, Mr. Easy, I could hardly get into the door 
of my cabin— and yet, as you must see, I ’m not a large man.’ 

'Good heavens I is it possible,’ thought Jack, 'that this 
man does not really know that he is monstrous ?’ 

Yet such was the case. Mr. Oxbelly had no idea that he 
was otherwise than in good condition, although he had 
probably not seen his knees for years. It was his obesity that 
was the great objection to him, for in every other point there 
was nothing against him. He had, upon one pretence and 
another, been shifted, by the manoeuvres of the captains, out 
of different ships, until he went up to the Admiralty to know 

341 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


if there was any charge against him. The First Lord at once 
perceived the charge to be preferred, and made a mark against 
his name as not fit for anything but harbour duty. Out of 
employment, he had taken the command of a privateer cutter, 
when his wife, who was excessively fond, would, as he said, 
follow him with little Billy. He was sober, steady, knew his 
duty well; but he weighed twenty-six stone, and his weight 
had swamped him in the service. 

His wish, long indulged, had become, as Shakespeare says, 
the father of his thought, and he had really at last brought 
himself to think that he was not by any means what could be 
considered a fat man. His wife, as he said, was also a very 
stout woman, and this exuberance of flesh on both sides was 
the only, but continual, ground of dispute. 


CHAPTER XXXVHI 

IN WHICH OUR HERO, AS USUAL, GETS INTO THE VERY MIDDLE 

OF IT 

O N the eleventh day the Rebier a entered the Straits, and 
the rock of Gibraltar was in sight as the sun went down ; 
after which the wind fell light, and about midnight it be- 
came calm, and they drifted up. At sunrise they were roused 
by the report of heavy guns, and perceived an English 
frigate about eight miles farther up the Straits and more 
in the mid-channel engaging nine or ten Spanish gunboats, 
which had come out from Algeciras to attack her. It still 
continued a dead calm, and the boats of the frigate were 
all ahead towing her, so as to bring her broadside to bear 
upon the Spanish flotilla. The reverberating of the heavy 
cannon on both sides over the placid surface of the water — 
the white smoke ascending as the sun rose in brilliancy 
in a clear blue sky — the distant echos repeated from the 
high hills— had a very beautiful effect for those who are 
partial to the picturesque. But Jack thought it advisable 

342 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


to prepare for action instead of watching for tints — and 
in a short time all was ready. 

‘They’ll not come to us, Mr. Easy, as long as they have 
the frigate to hammer at; but still we had better be pre- 
pared, for we cannot well pass them without having a few 
shot. When I came up the Straits in the privateer we 
were attacked by two, and fought them for three hours; 
their shot dashed the water over our decks till they were 
wet fore and aft, but somehow or another they never hit 
us — we were low as they were. I’ll be bound but they’ll 
hull the frigate though. Mrs. Oxbelly and Billy were 
on deck the whole time — and Billy was quite delighted, 
and cried when they took him down to breakfast.’ 

‘Why, Mrs. Qxbelly must be very courageous.’ 

‘Cares neither for shot nor shell, sir — laughs when they 
whiz over her head, and tells Billy to hark. But, sir, it’s 
not surprising : her father is a major, and her two brothers 
are lieutenants in the bombardiers.’ 

‘That, indeed,’ replied Jack— ‘but see, there is a breeze 
springing up from the westward.’ 

‘Very true, Mr. Easy, and a steady one it will be, for it 
comes up dark and slow ; so much the better for the frigate, 
for she’ll get little honour and plenty of mauling at this 
work.’ 

‘I hope we shall take it up with us,’ observed Jack; ‘how 
far do you reckon the gunboats from the shore?’ 

‘I should think about five miles, or rather less.’ 

‘Trim sails, Mr. Oxbelly — perhaps we may cut one or 
two of these ofif — steer inshore of them.’ 

‘Exactly. Up there, my lads, set topgallant studding- 
sails, topmast studdings to hand— rig out the booms — keep 
as you go now, my lads — we shall be well inshore of them, 
and out of the range of the batteries.’ 

The breeze came down fresh, and all sail was set upon 
the Rebiera. She took the wind down with her, and it 
passed her but little — half a mile ahead of them all was 
still and smooth as a glass mirror, and they neared and 
gained inshore at the same time. The gunboats were still 
engaging the frigate, and did not appear to pay any atten- 
tion to the Rebiera coming down. At last the breeze 

343 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


reached them and the frigate, light at first and then grad- 
ually increasing, while the Rebier a foamed through the 
waters and had now every chance of cutting off some of 
the gunboats. The frigate trimmed her sails and steered 
towards the flotilla, which now thought proper to haul off 
and put their heads inshore, followed by the frigate firing 
her bow-chasers. But the Rehiera was now within half 
gunshot inshore, and steering so as to intercept them. As 
she rapidly closed, the flotilla scarcely knew how to act; 
to attack her would be to lose time, and allow the frigate 
to come up, and occasion their own capture; so they satis- 
fied themselves with firing at her as she continued to run 
down between them and the land. As they neared. Jack 
opened his fire with his eighteen-pound carronades and 
long nines. The gunboats returned his fire, and they were 
within a quarter of a mile when Jack shortened sail to his 
topsails, and a warm engagement took place, which ended 
in one of the gunboats being in a few minutes dismasted. 
The frigate, under all canvass, came rapidly up, and her 
shot now fell thick. The flotilla then ceased firing, pass- 
ing about two cables’ lengths ahead of the Rehiera, and 
making all possible sail for the land. Jack now fired at 
the flotilla as they passed with his larboard broadside, while 
with his starboard he poured in grape and canister upon 
the unfortunate gunboat which was dismasted, and which 
soon hauled down her colours. In a few minutes more the 
remainder were too far distant for the carronades, and, 
as they did not fire. Jack turned his attention to take pos- 
session of his prize, sending a boat with ten men on board 
and heaving-to close to her to take her in tow. Ten minutes 
more and the frigate was also hove-to a cable’s length 
from the Rehiera, and our hero lowered down his other 
quarter boat to go on board. 

'Have we any men hurt, Mr. Oxbelly?’ inquired Jack. 

'Only two; Spearling has lost his thumb with a piece 
of langrage, and James has a bad wound in the thigh.’ 

'Very well; I will ask for the surgeon to come on 
board.’ 

Jack pulled to the frigate and went up the side, touched 
his hat in due form, and was introduced by the midshipmen 
to the other side, where the captain stood. 

344 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


'Mr. Easy!’ exclaimed the captain. 

'Captain Sawbridgel’ replied our hero with surprise. 

'Good heavens! what brought you here?’ said the cap- 
tain; 'and what vessel is that?’ 

'The Rebiera, letter of marque, commanded and owned 
by Mr. Easy,’ replied Jack, laughing. 

Captain Sawbridge gave him his hand. 'Come down with 
me in the cabin, Mr. Easy ; I am very glad to see you. Give 
you great credit for your conduct, and am still more anxious 
to know what has induced you to come out again. I knew 
that you had left the service.’ 

Jack, in very few words, told his object in fitting out the 
Rebiera; 'but,’ continued Jack, 'allow me to congratulate 
you upon your promotion, which I was not aware of. May 
I ask where you left the Harpy, and what is the name of your 
frigate ?’ 

'The Latona; I have only been appointed to her one 
month, after an action in which the Harpy took a large 
corvette, and am ordered home with despatches to England. 
We sailed yesterday evening from Gibraltar, were be- 
calmed the whole night, and attacked this morning by the 
gunboats.’ 

'How is Captain Wilson, sir?’ 

'I believe he is very well, but I have not seen him.’ 

'How did you know, then, that I had left the service. 
Captain Sawbridge?’ 

'From Mr. Gascoigne, who is now on board.’ 

'Gascoigne !’ exclaimed our hero. 

'Yes, he was sent up to join the Aurora by the Governor, 
but she had left the fleet, and having served his time, and a 
passing day being ordered, he passed, and thought he might 
as well go home with me and see if he could make any inter- 
est for his promotion.’ 

'Pray, Captain Sawbridge, is the gunboat our prize or 
yours.’ 

'It ought to be wholly yours; but the fact is, by the 
regulations, we share.’ 

'With all my heart, sir. Will you send an assistant 
surgeon on board to look after two of my men who are hurt?’ 

'Yes, directly; now send your boat away. Easy, with 
directions to your officer in command. We must go back to 

345 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


Gibraltar, for we have received some injury, and, I am sorry 
to say, lost some men. You are going then, I presume, to 
stay on board and dine with me ; we shall be at anchor before 
night.’ 

‘I will, with pleasure, sir. But now I will send my boat 
away and shake hands with Gascoigne.’ 

Gascoigne was under the half-deck waiting to receive his 
friend, for he had seen him come up the side from his station 
on the forecastle. A hurried conversation took place, after our 
hero had dismissed his boat with the assistant surgeon in it to 
dress the two wounded men. Jack then went on deck, talked 
with the officers, looked with pleasure at the Rebiera with the 
gunboat in tow keeping company with the frigate, although 
only under the same canvas— promised Gascoigne to spend the 
next day with him either on shore or on board of the Rebiera, 
and then returned to the cabin, where he had a long confer- 
ence with Captain Sawbridge. 

'When you first entered the service. Easy,’ said Captain 
Sawbridge, 'I thought that the sooner the service was rid of 
you the better; now that you have left it, I feel that it has 
lost one who, in all probability, would have proved a credit 
to it.’ 

'Many thanks, sir,’ replied Jack; 'but how can I be a 
midshipman with eight thousand pounds a year ?’ 

'I agree with you that it is impossible but dinner is 
serving, go into the after-cabin, and the steward will give you 
all you require.’ 

Our hero, whose face and hands were not a little grimed 
with the gunpowder, washed himself, combed out his curly 
black hair, and found all the party in the fore-cabin. 
Gascoigne, who had not been asked in the forenoon, was, by 
the consideration of Captain Sawbridge, added to the number. 
Before dinner was long off the table, the first lieutenant 
reported that it was necessary to turn the hands up, as they 
were close to the anchorage. The party, therefore, broke up 
sooner than otherwise would have been the case. And as 
soon as the Latona's sails were furled Captain Sawbridge went 
on shore to acquaint the Governor with the results of the 
action. He asked Jack to accompany him, but our hero, 
wishing to be with Gascoigne, excused himself until the next 
day. 


346 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘And now, Easy,’ said Gascoigne, as soon as the captain 
had gone over the side, ‘I will ask permission to go oni board 
with you — or will you ask?’ 

‘I will ask,’ replied Jack; ‘a gentleman of fortune has 
more weight with a first lieutenant than a midshipman.’ 

So Jack went up to the first lieutenant, and with one of his 
polite bows hoped, ‘if duty would permit, he would honour 
him by coming on board that evening with some of his officers, 
to see the Rehiera and to drink a bottle or two of champagne.’ 

The first lieutenant, as the Rehiera was anchored not two 
cables’ lengths from him, replied that ‘as soon as he had 
shifted the prisoners and secured the gunboat, he would be 
very glad,’ so did three or four more of the officers, and 
then Jack begged as a favour that his old friend, Mr. 
Gascoigne, might be permitted to go with him now, as he had 
important packages to entrust to his care to England. The 
first lieutenant was very willing, and Gascoigne and our hero 
jumped into the boat, and were once more in all the confidence 
of tried and deserved friendship. 

‘Jack, I ’ve been thinking of it, and I ’ve made up my mind,’ 
said Gascoigne. ‘I shall gain little or nothing by going home 
for my promotion : I may as well stay here, and as I have 
served my time and passed, my pay is now of little conse- 
quence. Will you take me with you ?’ 

Tt is exactly what I was thinking of, Ned. Do you think 
that Captain Sawbridge will consent?’ 

T do; he knows how I am circumstanced, and that my 
going home was merely because I was tired of looking after 
the Aurora/ * 

‘We’ll go together and ask him to-morrow,’ replied Jack. 

‘At all events, you’ll have a more gentlemanly companion 
than Mr. Oxbelly.’ 

‘But not so steady, Ned.’ 

The first lieutenant and officers came on board and passed 
a merry evening. There’s nothing passes time more agreeably 
away than champagne, and if you do not affront this regal 
wine by mixing him with any other, he never punishes you 
next morning. 


347 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER XXXIX 

A COUNCIL OF WAR^ IN WHICH JACK DECIDES THAT HE WILL 
HAVE ONE MORE CRUISE 

AS Captain Sawbridge did not return on board that evening, 
Easy went on shore and called upon him at the Gover- 
nor’s, to whom he was introduced, and received an invitation 
to dine with him. As Gascoigne could not come on shore, 
our hero took this opportunity of making his request to Cap- 
tain Sawbridge, stating that the person he had with him was 
not such as he wished and could confide everything to — that is, 
not one to whom he could talk to about Agnes. Jack, as he 
found that Captain Sawbridge did not immediately assent, 
pressed the matter hard; at last Captain Sawbridge, who re- 
flected that Gascoigne’s interest hereafter would be much 
greater through his friend Easy than any other quarter, and 
that the more the friendship was cemented the more advan- 
tageous it might prove to Gascoigne, gave his consent to our 
hero’s wish, who called on board of the Latona to acquaint 
Gascoigne and the first lieutenant of Captain Sawbridge’s 
intentions, and then went on board of the Rebiera and ordered 
Mesty to come with his portmanteau on shore to the inn, that 
he might dress for dinner. Gascoigne, now considered as not 
belonging to the Latona, was permitted to accompany him; 
and Jack found himself looking out of the window at which 
he had hung out his trousers upon the memorable occasion 
when the boatswain had to follow his own precept of duty 
before decency. 

‘What scenes of adventures I have passed through since 
that,’ thought Jack; ‘not much more than four years ago, 
then not three weeks in the service.’ Whereupon Jack fell 
into a deep reverie, and thought of the baboon and of Agnes. 

The repairs of the Latona were all made good by the next 
day, and Gascoigne, having received his discharge-ticket, went 
on board of the Rebiera. The gunboat was put into the 
hands of the agent, and shortly afterwards purchased by 
government. The Rebiera’s crew did not, however, obtain 
their prize-money and share of the head-money, for she had 

348 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


seventy men on board, until their return, but, as they said, they 
had broken the ice, and that was everything. Moreover, it 
gave them confidence in themselves, in their vessel, and in 
their commander. Our hero weighed a short time after the 
Latona, having first taken leave of Captain Sawbridge, and 
committed to his care a letter to Dr. Middleton. 

Once more behold the trio together — the two midshipmen 
hanging over the taffrail, and Mesty standing by them. They 
had rounded Europe Point, and with a fine breeze off the 
land were lying close-hauled along the Spanish shore. Mr. 
Oxbelly was also walking near them. 

'When I was cruising here it was very different,’ observed 
Jack; T had a vessel which I did not know how to manage, 
a crew which I could not command, and had it not been for 
Mesty, what would have become of me ?’ 

'Massa Easy, you know very well how to get out of scrapes, 
anyhow.’ 

‘Yes, and how to get into them,’ continued Gascoigne. 

‘And how to get others out of them too, Ned.’ 

‘ “No more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me,” ’ quoted 
Gascoigne. ‘I have often wondered what has been the lot of 
poor Azar.’ 

‘The lot of most women, Ned, in every country — prized at 
first, neglected afterwards— the lot she might have had with 
you.’ 

‘Perhaps so,’ replied Ned, with a sigh. 

‘Massa Easy, you get eberybody out of scrape; you get 
me out of scrape.’ 

‘I do not recollect how, Mesty.’ 

‘You get me out from boil kettle for young gentlemen— 
dat devil of scrape.’ 

‘And I ’m sure I ’ve got you out of a scrape, Mr. Oxbelly.’ 

‘How so, Mr. Easy?’ 

‘How so!— have I not prevented your quarrelling with 
your wife every night?’ 

‘Certainly, sir, you have been the means. But, do you 
know, when we were engaging the other day I could not help 
saying to myself, “I wish my wife was here now, holding 
little Billy at the hatchway.” ’ 

‘But at night, Mr. Oxbelly ?’ 

349 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


^At night! — why, then I’m afraid I should have wished 
her home again— it’s astonishing how comfortable I sleep now 
every night. Besides, in this climate it would be intolerable. 
Mrs. Oxbelly is a very large woman — very large indeed.’ 

‘Well, but now we must hold a council of war. Are we 
to run up the coast, or to shape a course direct for Palermo?’ 

‘Course direct, and we shall take nothing, that is certain,’ 
said Gascoigne. 

‘If we take nothing we shall make no prize-money,’ con- 
tinued Oxbelly. 

‘If we make no prize-money the men will be discontented,’ 
said Easy. 

‘If no ab noting to do— it will be d-d ’tupid,’ continued 
Mesty. 

‘Now, then, the other side of the question. If we steer for 
Palermo, we shall be sooner there and sooner home.’ 

‘To which I reply,’ said Gascoigne, ‘that the shorter the 
cruise is, the less I shall have of your company.’ 

‘And I shall have to sleep with Mrs. Oxbelly,’ continued 
Oxbelly. 

‘Hab fine ship, fine gun, fine men, and do noting,’ cried 
Mesty. ‘By de power, I no like dat, Massa Easy.’ 

‘You want eight months of coming of age, Jack,’ observed 
Gascoigne. 

‘It won’t make a difference of more than three or four 
weeks,’ said Mr. Oxbelly; ‘and the expenses have been very 
great.’ 

‘But ’ 

‘But what, Jack?’ 

‘Agnes.’ 

‘Agnes will be better defended going home by men who 
have been accustomed to be in an action. And, as for her 
waiting a little longer, it will only make her love you a little 
more.’ 

‘Sleep single a little longer, Mr. Easy, it’s very pleasant,’ 
said Mr. Oxbelly. 

‘That’s not very bad advice of yours,’ observed Gascoigne. 

^Stop a little, Massa Easy,’ said Mesty; ‘you know dat 
very good advice.'^ 

‘Well then,’ replied Jack, ‘I will, as I am quite in the 
minority. We will work up the whole coast— up to Toulon. 

350 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


After all, there’s something very pleasant in commanding your 
own ship, and I ’m not in a hurry to resign it— so that point’s 
decided.’ 

The Rebiera was steered in to the land, and at sunset they 
were not four miles from the lofty blue mountains which over- 
hang the town of Malaga. There were many vessels lying at 
the bottom of the bay, close in with the town ; the wind now 
fell light, and th-e Rebiera, as she could not fetch the town, 
tacked as if she were a merchant vessel standing in, and 
showed American colours — a hint which they took from per- 
ceiving three of four large vessels lying in the outer roads 
with the colours of that nation hoisted at the peak. 

What is your intention. Jack?’ said Gascoigne. 

T ’ll be hanged if I know yet. I think of working up to 
the outer roads, and anchoring at night— boarding the 
American vessels, and gaining intelligence.’ 

‘Not a bad idea; we shall then learn if there is anything 
to be done, and if not, we may be off at daylight.’ 

‘The pratique boat will not come off after sunset.’ 

‘And if they did, we could pass for an American, bound to 
Barcelona or anywhere else — the outer roads where the vessels 
lie are hardly within gunshot.’ 

Mesty, who had resumed his sailor’s clothes, now observed, 
‘What we do, Massa Easy, we do quickly— time for all ting, 
time for show face and fight— time for hide face, crawl, and 
steal.’ 

‘Very true, Mesty, we’ll crawl this time, and steal if we can. 
It’s not the warfare I like best of the two.’ 

‘Both good, Massa Easy; suppose you no steal board of 
polacca ship, you not see Missy Agnes.’ 

‘Very true, Mesty. ’Bout ship, Mr. Oxbelly.’ 

‘Mr. Oxbelly not good for boat sarvice,’ observed Mesty 
showing his teeth. 

It was dark before the Rebiera was anchored in the outer 
roads, a cable’s length astern of the outermost American vessel. 
One of her quarter boats was lowered down, and Gascoigne 
and our hero pulled alongside, and, lying on their oars, hailed 
and asked the name of the vessel. 

‘So help me Gad, just now I forget her name,’ replied a 
negro, looking over the gangway. 

‘Who’s the captain ?’ 


351 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


^So help me Gad, he gone on shore/ 

‘Is the mate on board ?’ 

‘No, so help me Gad— he gone shore, too/ 

‘Who is aboard, then ?’ 

‘So help me Gad, nobody on board but Pompey— and 
dat me.’ 

‘Good ship-keepers, at all events,’ said Jack. A ship in 
the outer roads with only a black fellow on board! I say, 
Pompey, do they always leave you in charge of the vessel ?’ 

‘No, sar; but tonight great pleasure on shore. Ebery- 
body dance and sing, get drunk, kick up bobbery, and all 
dat/ 

‘What, is it a festival ?’ 

‘So help me Gad, I no know, sar/ 

‘Is there anyone on board of the other vessels ?’ 

‘Eberybody gone shore. Suppose they have black man, 
he stay on board.’ 

‘Good-night, Pompey.’ 

‘Good-night, sar. Who I say call when captain come on 
board?’ 

‘Captain Easy.’ 

‘Captain He-see, very well, sar.’ 

Our hero pulled to another ship, and found it equally 
deserted ; but at the third he found the second mate, with his 
arm in a sling, and from him they gained the information that 
it was a great festival, being the last day of the carnival ; and 
that every one was thinking of nothing but amusement. 

‘I ’ve a notion,’ said the mate, in reply, ‘that you ’re 
American.’ 

‘You ’ve guessed right,’ replied Jack. 

‘What ship, and from what port ?’ 

‘Rhode Island, the Susan and Mary,^ replied Gascoigne. 

‘I thought you were north. We’re of New York. What 
news do you bring ?’ 

‘Nothing,’ replied he, ‘we are from Liverpool last.’ 

A succession of questions was now put by the American 
mate, and answered very skilfully by Gascoigne, who then 
inquired how the market was. 

It was necessary to make and reply to all these inquiries 
before they could ask apparently indifferent questions to 
American traders ; at last Gascoigne inquired. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


‘Do you think they would allow us to go on shore? the 
pratique boat has not been on board.’ 

‘They ’ll never find you out if you are off before daylight ; 
I doubt if they know that you are anchored. Besides, from 
Liverpool you would have a clean bill of health, and if they 
found it out, they would not say much; they’re not over- 
particular, I ’ve a notion.’ 

‘What are those vessels lying inshore ?’ 

‘I guess they have olive-oil on board, the chief on ’em. 
But there are two double lateens come in from Valparaiso the 
day before yesterday, with hides and copper. How they 
’scaped the British I can’t tell, but they did, that’s sure 
enough.’ 

‘Good-night, then.’ 

‘You won’t take a glass of sling this fine night with a 
countryman ?’ 

‘To-morrow, my good fellow, to-morrow; we must go on 
shore now.’ 

Our hero and Gascoigne returned on board the Rebiera, 
consulted with Oxhelly and Mesty, and then manned and 
armed the two quarter and stern boats. They thought it ad- 
visable not to hoist out their long-boat ; no firearms were per- 
mitted to be taken lest, going off by accident or otherwise, 
an alarm should be given. Our hero and Mesty proceeded in 
the first boat, and pulled in for the town; Gascoigne shortly 
after in the second; and the boatswain in the jolly-boat fol- 
lowed at some distance. 

There was no notice taken of them ; they pulled gently down 
to the landing-place, which was deserted. There was a blaze 
of light, and the sounds of revelry in every quarter on shore ; 
but the vessels appeared equally deserted as the American 
ones in the offing. 

Finding themselves unobserved, for they had taken the 
precaution to pull only two oars in each boat, they dropped 
gently alongside of one of the double-masted lateen vessels, 
and Mesty stepped on board. He peeped down in the cabin, 
and perceived a man lying on the lockers ; he came up in his 
stealthy manner, closed the hatch softly, and said, ‘All right.’ 
Jack left Gascoigne to take out this vessel, which he did very 
successfully, for it was very dark; and although there were 
sentries posted not far off, their eyes and ears were turned 
towards the town listening to the music. 

.353 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


A second vessel, her consort, was boarded in the same way, 
but here they found a man on deck, whom they were obliged 
to seize and gag. They put him down in the cabin, and Mesty, 
with another boat’s crew, cut her cables and swept her gently 
out towards the American vessels. One more vessel was 
required, and Jack, pulling two oars as usual, saluted a galliot 
heavily laden, but of what her cargo consisted was not known. 
In this vessel they found two men in the cabin playing cards, 
whom they seized and bound, and cutting her cables were 
obliged to make sail upon her, as she was much too large to 
sweep out. As they were making sail they, however, met with 
an interruption which they did not expect. The crew belong- 
ing to the vessel, having had enough amusement for the even- 
ing, and intending to sail the next morning, had thought it 
right to come off sooner than the others; it was then about 
midnight or a little later, and while some of Jack’s, men were 
aloft, for he had six with him. Jack to his annoyance heard a 
boat coming off from the shore, the men in her singing a 
chorus. The galliot was at that time just under steerage way, 
her top-sails had been loosed and her jib hoisted, but the 
former had not been sheeted home, for the three men below 
could not, in the dark, find the ropes. The other three men 
were on the foreyard loosing the foresail, and Jack was 
undetermined whether to call them down immediately or to 
allow them to loose the sail, and thus get good way on the 
vessel so as to prevent the boat, which was loaded withi men, 
from overtaking them. The boat was not more than twenty- 
yards from the galliot, when, not finding her where they left 
her, they pulled to the right and lay on their oars. This gave 
a moment of time, but they very soon spied her out. 
‘Carambo !’ was the exclamation— and the head of the boat was 
pulled round. 

'Down, my lads, in a moment by the swifters,’ cried Jack. 
‘Here’s a boat on board of us.’ 

The men were in a few seconds on deck, and the others, 
who had now sheeted home the topsail, hastened aft. The 
vessel soon gathered way, but before that her way was 
sufficient, the boat had pulled under the counter, and the 
Spaniards, letting their oars swing fore and aft, were climbing 
up, their knives in their teeth. A scuffle ensued and they 

354 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


were thrown down again, but they renewed their attempt. 
Our hero, perceiving a small water or wine-cask lashed to the 
gunnel, cut it loose with his cutlass, and, with one of the men 
who was by his side, pushed it over and dropped it into the 
boat. It struck the gunnel, stove a plank, and the boat 
began to fill rapidly; in the meantime the galliot had gained 
way— the boat could not longer be held on, from its weight, 
and dropped astern with the men in it. Those who were half 
in and half out were left clinging to the gunnel of the vessel, 
and as they climbed up were secured and put down in the cabin. 
Fortunately, no firearms having been used on either side, the 
alarm was not given generally, but the sentry reported fight- 
ing on board one of the vessels, and the people of the guard- 
boat were collected, and pulled out ; but they only arrived in 
time to see that the galliot was under weigh, and that the two 
other vessels from Valparaiso were not in their berths. 

They hastened on shore, gave the alarm: the gunboats of 
which there were three at the mole, were ordered out, but 
half the crew and all the officers were on shore, some at balls, 
others drinking at taverns or posadas; before they could be 
collected all three vessels were alongside of the Rehiera; and 
not aware that anything had been discovered, our hero and 
his crew were lulled in security. Jack had gone on board, 
leaving fourteen of his men on board the galliot— Gascoigne 
had done the same — Mesty still remained on board his vessel ; 
and they were congratulating themselves and ordering the 
men on board to the windlass, when they heard the sound of 
oars. 

^Silence!— what is that?' exclaimed Oxbelly. 

The gunboats or row-boats, as sure as I 'm alive !' 

At this moment Mesty jumped up the side. 

^Massa Easy, I hear row-boat not far off.' 

‘So do we, Mesty. Gascoigne, jump into the boat— tell the 
men in the prizes to make all sail right out, and leave us to 
defend their retreat— stay on board of one and divide your 
men.' 

‘Dat all right, Massa Easy— Mr. Gascoigne, be smart— and 
now, sar, cut cable and make sail; no time get up anchor. 

This order was given, but although the men were aloft in 
a moment, and very expeditious, as the Rebiera prayed her 

355 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


head round and the jib was hoisted, they could perceive the 
boom of the three gunboats pulling and sailing not five cables’ 
length from them. Although rather short-handed, topsails, 
courses, and topgallant sails were soon set, the men down to 
their quarters, and the guns cast loose, before the gunboats 
were close under their stern. Then Jack rounded to, braced 
up, and the Rehiera stood across them to the westward. 

Why the devil don’t they fire?’ said Jack. 

T tink because they no ab powder,’ said Mesty. 

Mesty was right — the ammunition-chests of the gunboats 
were always landed when they were at the mole, in case of 
accidents, which might arise from the crew being continually 
with cigars in their mouths, and in the hurry they had quite 
forgotten to put them on board. 

‘At all events, we have powder,’ said Jack, ‘and now 
we’ll prove it. Grape and canister, my lads, and take good 
aim.’ 

The commanders of the gunboats had hailed each other, 
and agreed to board the Rehiera, but she now had good 
way on her, and sailed faster than they pulled. A well- 
directed broadside astonished them — they had no idea of 
her force; and the execution done was so great, that they 
first lay on their oars and then pulled back to the mole with 
all speed, leaving the Rehiera in quiet possession of her 
prizes, which had already gained two miles in the offing. 

The Rehiera, as soon as Jack perceived that the gunboats 
had retreated, was put before the wind, and soon closed with 
her captures, when she was hove-to till daylight with the 
three vessels in company. Gascoigne returned on board, 
prize-masters were selected, and Jack determined to keep 
them all with him, and take them to Palermo. 


356 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


CHAPTER XL 

IN WHICH THERE IS ANOTHER SLIGHT DIFFERENCE OF OPINION 
BETWEEN THOSE WHO SHOULD BE FRIENDS 

T he two lateen vessels proved of considerable value, 
being laden with copper, hides, and cochineal. The galliot 
was laden with sweet-oil, and was also no despicable prize. 
At daylight they were all ready, and, to the mortification 
of the good people of Malaga, sailed away to the eastward 
without interruption. 

‘Me tink we do dat job pretty well, Massa Easy,’ observed 
Mesty as he laid the breakfast table. 

‘Nothing like trying,’ replied Gascoigne; ‘I’m sure when 
we stood into the bay I would have sold all my prize-money 
for a doubloon. How do I share. Jack?’ 

‘Only as one of the crew, Ned, for you are a supernumer- 
ary, and our articles and agreement for prize-money were 
signed previous to our sailing.’ 

‘I ought to share with Mr. Oxbelly’s class, by rights,’ 
replied Gascoigne. 

‘That would be to take half my prize-money away. I shall 
want it all, Mr. Gascoigne, to pacify my wife for giving her 
the slip.’ 

‘Ah, very well ; I ’ll get all I can.’ 

For ten days they ran down the coast, going much too 
fast for the wishes of the crew, who were anxious to make 
more money. They seized a fishing-boat and put on board 
of her the four prisoners whom they had found in the 
vessels, and arrived off ‘Barcelona without falling in with 
friend or foe. The next morning, the wind being very light, 
they discovered a large vessel at daylight astern of them to 
the westward, and soon made her out to be a frigate. She 
made all sail in chase, but that gave them very little un- 
easiness, as they felt assured that she was a British cruiser. 
One fear, however, came over them — that she would, if she 
came up with them, impress a portion of their men. 

‘As certain as I ’m here and Mrs. Oxbelly’s at Southend,’ 
said Oxbelly, ‘they ’ll take some of the men— the more so 

357 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


as, supposing us to be a Spanish convoy, they will be dis- 
appointed. 

‘They will hardly take them out of the prizes,’ observed 
Easy. 

T don’t know that; men must be had for his Majesty’s 
service somehow. It ’s not their fault, Mr. Easy — the navy 
must be manned, and as things are so, so things must be. 
It ’s the king’s prerogative, Mr. Easy, and we cannot fight 
the battles of the country without it.’ 

‘Yes,’ replied Gascoigne, ‘and although, as soon as the 
services of seamen are no longer wanted, you find that there 
are demagogues on shore who exclaim against impressment, 
they are quite enough on the point when they know that their 
lives and property depend upon sailors’ exertions.’ 

‘Very true, Mr. Gascoigne, but it’s not our fault if we are 
obliged to take men by force, it’s the fault of those who do 
not legislate so as to prevent the necessity. Mrs. Oxbelly 
used to say that she would easily manage the matter if she 
were Chancellor of the Exchequer.’ 

‘I dare say Mrs. Oxbelly would make a very good Chan- 
cellor of the Exchequer,’ replied Gascoigne smiling; ‘one 
thing is certain, that if they gave the subject half the con- 
sideration they have others of less magnitude, an arrange- 
ment might be made by which his Majesty’s navy would 
never be short of men.’ 

‘No doubt, no doubt, Mr. Gascoigne; but nevertheless the 
king’s prerogative must never be given up.’ 

‘There I agree with you, Mr. Oxbelly; it must he held in 
case of sudden emergency and absolute need.’ 

‘We’ll argue that point by and bye,’ replied Jack; ‘now 
let us consult as to our measures. My opinion is, that if I 
made more sail we should beat the frigate, but she would 
come up with the prizes.’ 

‘That’s the best thing we can do, Mr. Easy; but let us 
send a boat on board of them, and take out all the men that 
can possibly be spared, that there may be no excuse for 
impressing them.’ 

‘Yes,’ replied Gascoigne; ‘and as the wind is falling it is 
possible it may fall calm, and they may send their boats; 
suppose we separate a mile or two from each other ?’ 

358 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


'Dat very good advice, Massa Gascoigne,’ observed Mesty. 

This plan was acted upon : only three men were left in the 
lateens, and four in the galliot, and the vessels, in obedience 
to the orders, sheered off on both sides of the Rebiera, who 
made all sail and started ahead of the prizes. This 
manoeuvre was perceived on board of the frigate, and made 
them sure that it was a Spanish convoy attempting to escape. 
The fire-engine was got on deck, sails wetted, and every 
exertion made to come up. But about four o’clock in the 
afternoon, when the frigate was eight or nine miles off, it 
fell calm, as Gascoigne had predicted, and the heads of 
all the vessels, as well as the frigate, were now round the 
compass. 

‘There’s out boats,’ said Mr. Oxbelly; ‘they will have a 
long pull, and all for nothing.’ 

‘How savage they will be!’ observed Gascoigne. 

‘Never mind that,’ replied Jack; ‘Mesty says that dinner 
is ready.’ 

After dinner they all went on deck, and found that the 
boats had separated, one pulling for each of the prizes and 
two for the Rebiera. In less than an hour they would 
probably be alongside. 

‘And now let us decide how we are to act. We must not 
resist if they attempt to impress the men?’ 

‘I’ve been thinking upon that matter, Mr. Easy, and it 
appears to me that the men must be permitted to act as they 
please, and that we must be neuter. I, as a lieutenant in his 
Majesty’s service, cannot of course act, neither can Mr. 
Gascoigne. You are not in the service, but I should rec- 
ommend you to do the same. That the men have a right 
to resist, if possible, is admitted; they always do 
so, and never are punished for so doing. Under the guns 
of the frigate, of course, we should only have to submit; 
but those two boats do not contain more than twenty-five 
men, I should think, and our men are the stronger party. 
We had better leave it to them, and stand neuter.’ 

‘Dat very good advice,’ said Mesty; ‘leab it to us;’ and 
Mesty walked away forward, where the seamen were already 
in consultation. 

Jack also agreed to the prudence of this measure, and he 

359 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


perceived that the seamen, after a consultation with Mesty, 
were all arming themselves for resistance. 

The boats were now close on board, and English 
colours were hoisted at the gaff. This did not, however, 
check the impetus of the boats, which, with their ensigns 
trailing in the still water astern of them, dashed alongside, 
and an officer leaped on board, cutlass in hand, followed 
by the seatnen of the frigate. The men of the Rebiera re- 
mained collected forward — Easy, Gascoigne, and Oxbelly 
aft. 

'What vessel is this cried the lieutenant who commanded 
the boats. 

Jack, with the greatest politeness, took off his hat, and told 
him that it was the Rebiera, letter of marque, and that the 
papers were ready for his inspection. 

'And the other vessels?* 

'Prizes to the Rebiera, cut out of Malaga Bay,’ replied 
Jack. 

'Then you are a privateer,’ observed the disappointed 
officer. 'Where are your papers?’ 

'Mr. Oxbelly, oblige me by bringing them up,’ said Jack. 

'Fat Jack of the bone-house,’ observed the lieutenant, 
looking at Oxbelly. 

'A lieutenant in his Majesty’s service, of longer standing 
than yourself, young man,’ replied Oxbelly firmly; — 'and 
who, if he ever meets you in any other situation, will make 
you answer for your insolent remark.’ 

'Indeed!’ observed the lieutenant ironically; now if you 
had said you were once a boatswain or gunner.’ 

'Consider yourself kicked,’ roared Oxbelly, losing his 
temper. 

'Heyday! why, you old porpoise!’ 

'Sir,’ observed Jack, who. listened with indignation, 
'Mr. Oxbelly is a lieutenant in his Majesty’s service; and you 
have no right to insult him, even if he were not.’ 

'I presume you are all officers,’ replied the lieutenant. 

'I am, sir,’ retorted Gascoigne, 'an officer in his Majesty’s 
service, and on board of this vessel by permission of Captain 
Sawbridge of the Latonaf 

'And I was, until a few months ago, sir,’ continued Jack; 

360 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

'at present I am captain and owner of this vessel — ^but here 
are the papers. You will have no obstruction from us in the 
execution of your duty — at the same time, I call upon the two 
young gentlemen by your side, and your own men, to bear 
witness to what takes place.’ 

'Oh, very well, sir — just as you please. Your papers, I per- 
ceive, are all right. Now you will oblige me by mustering 
your men.’ 

'Certainly, sir,’ replied Jack; 'send all the men aft to 
muster, Mr. Oxbelly.’ 

The men came aft to the mainmast, with Mesty at their 
head, and answered to their names. As the men passed over, 
the lieutenant made a pencil-mark against ten of them, who 
appeared the finest seamen; and, when the roll had been 
called, he ordered those men to get their bags and go into the 
boat. 

'Sir, as you must observe, I am short-handed, with my 
men away in prizes ; and I, as commander of this vessel, pro- 
test against this proceeding : if you insist upon taking them, 
of course I can do nothing,’ observed Jack. 

'I do insist, sir; I’m not going on board empty-handed, at 
all events.’ 

'Well, sir, I can say no more,’ said Jack, walking aft to 
the taffrail, to which Oxbelly and Gascoigne had retreated. 

'Come, my lads, get those men in the boat,’ said the 
lieutenant. 

But the men had all retreated forward in a body, with 
Mesty at their head, and had armed themselves. Some of 
the seamen of the frigate had gone forward, in obedience to 
their officer, to lead the men selected into the boat; but they 
were immediately desired to keep back. The scuffle forward 
attracted the notice of the lieutenant, who immediately sum- 
moned all his men out of the boats. 

‘Mutiny, by heavens! Come up, all of you, my lads.’ 

Mesty then came forward, with a sabre in one hand and 
pistol in the other, and thus addressed the seamen of the 
frigate — 

‘I tell you dis, my lads — you not so strong as we — you 
not got better arms— we not under gun of frigate now, and ab 
determination not to go board. ’Pose you want us, come 

361 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

take us — ’pose you can. By all de power, but we make 
mince-meat of you, anyhow.’ 

The seamen paused — they were ready to fight for their 
country, but not to be killed by or kill those who were their 
own countrymen, and who were doing exactly what they 
would have done themselves. The lieutenant thought other- 
wise; he was exasperated at this sensation. 

‘You black scoundrel, I left you out because I thought you 
not worth having, but now Fll add you to the number.’ 

‘Stop a little,’ replied Mesty. 

The lieutenant would not take the Ashantee’s very prudent 
advice ; he flew forward to seize Mesty, who, striking him a 
blow with the flat of his sabre, almost levelled him to the 
deck. At this the men and other officers of the frigate darted 
forward; but after a short scuffle, in which a few wounds 
were received, were beaten back into the boats. The lieuten- 
ant was thrown in after them by the nervous arm of Mesty — 
and, assailed by cold shot and other missiles, they sheered off 
with precipitation, and pulled back in the direction of the 
frigate. 

‘There will be a row about this,’ said Oxbelly, ‘as soon as 
they come clear of the vessel. If the frigate gets hold of us 
she will show us no mercy. There is a breeze coming from 
the north-west. How fortunate! we shall be three leagues 
to windward^ and may escape.’ 

‘I doubt if she could catch us at any point of sailing: 
they may come up with the prizes, but can do nothing with 
them.’ 

‘No, the boats which boarded them are already returned 
to the frigate ; she must wait for them, and that will give us 
a start, and it will be night before they can even make sail.’ 

‘Fire a gun for the prizes to close,’ said Jack ; ‘we will put 
the men on board again, and then be off to Palermo as fast 
as we can.’ 

‘We can do no better,’ said Oxbelly. ‘If ever I chance to 
meet that fellow again, I will trouble him to repeat his words 
Trim the sails, my lads.’ 

‘His language was unpardonable,’ observed Jack. 

‘Since I’ve been in the service, Mr. Easy, I have always 
observed that some officers appear to imagine that, because 

362 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


they are under the king’s pennant, they are warranted in 
insulting and tyrannising over all those who have not the 
honour to hoist it ; whereas the very fact of their being king’s 
officers should be an inducement to them to show an example 
of courtesy and gentlemanly conduct in the execution of their 
duty, however unpleasant it may be.’ 

'It is only those who, insignificant themselves, want to 
make themselves of importance by the pennant they serve 
under,’ replied our hero. 

'Very true, Mr. Easy; but you are not aware that a great 
part of the ill-will shown to the service is owing to the 
insolence of those young men in office. The king’s name is 
a warrant for every species of tyranny and unwarrantable 
conduct. I remember Mrs. Oxbelly telling one of them, 
when ’ 

'I beg your pardon, Mr. Oxbelly,’ interrupted Jack, 'but 
we have no time to chat now ; the breeze is coming down fast, 
and I perceive the prizes are closing. Let us lower down the 
boat, send the men on board again, and give them their orders 
—which I will do in writing, in case they part company.’ 

'Very true, sir. It will be dark in half-an-hour, and as we 
are now standing inshore, they will think that we intend to 
remain on the coast. As soon as it is quite dark we will 
shape our course for Palermo. I will go down and look at 
the chart.’ 


CHAPTER XLI 

WHICH WINDS UP THE NAUTICAL ADVENTURES OF 
MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 

I N half-an-hour the prizes were again alongside, the men 
put on board, and the boat hoisted up. The frigate still 
remained becalmed to leeward, and hoisted in her boats. 
They watched until she was hid by the shades of night, and 
then wearing round stood away, with the wind two points 
free, for the coast of Sicily. The next morning when the 

363 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


sun rose there was nothing in sight. Strange anomaly, in a 
state of high civilisation, where you find your own country- 
men avoided and more dreaded than even your foes ! 

The run was prosperous, the weather was fine, and the 
prizes did not part company. 

On the sixteenth day the Rebiera and her convoy anchored 
in Palermo Bay. The wind was light in the morning that 
they stood in, and as Jack had a large blue flag with Rebiera 
in white letters hoisted at the main, Don Philip and Don 
Martin were on board and greeting our hero before the 
Rebiera' s anchor had plunged into the clear blue water. 

The information which our hero received, after having 
been assured of the health of Agnes and her parents, was 
satisfactory. The disappearance of the friar had at first, oc- 
casioned much surprise; but as the servants of Don Rebiera 
swore to his return without the black, and the letter of Don 
Rebiera, sent to the convent requesting his presence, was 
opened and read, there was no suspicion against the family. 
A hundred conjectures had been afloat, but gradually they 
had subsided, and it was at last supposed that he had been 
carried otf by the banditti, some of whom had been taken, and 
acknowledged that they had seized a friar on a day which 
they could not recollect. The reader will remember that it 
was Mesty. 

The Rebiera received pratique, and Jack hastened on shore 
with Don Philip and his brother, and was once more in the 
company of Agnes, who, in our hero’s opinion, had improved 
since his departure. Most young men in love think the same 
after an absence, provided it is not too long. The prizes were 
sold and the money distributed, and every man was satisfied, 
as the cargoes fetched a larger sum than they had anticipated. 

We must pass over the pros and cons of Don Rebiera and 
his lady, the pleading of Jack for immediate nuptials, the un- 
willingness of the mother to part with her only daughter, the 
family consultation, the dowry, and all these particulars. A 
month after his arrival Jack was married, and was, of course, 
as happy as the day was long. 

A few days afterwards Mr. Oxbelly advised departure, as 
the expenses of the vessel were heavy, and it was his duty so 
to do. Don Philip and Don Martin obtained leave to go to 

364 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


England with their sister and her husband. Nevertheless 
Jack, who found Palermo a very pleasant residence, was per- 
suaded by the Don and his wife to remain there a month, and 
then there was crying, and sobbing, and embracing, and em- 
barking, and at last the Rehiera, whose cabins had been 
arranged for the reception of the party, weighed and made 
sail for Malta, Jack having promised to call upon the 
Governor. 

In four days they anchored in Vallette harbour, and Jack 
paid his respects to his old friend, who was very glad to see 
him. The Governor sent his own barge for Mrs. Easy, and 
she was installed in the state apartments, which were acknowl- 
edged to be very comfortable. Our hero had, as usual, a 
long story to tell the Governor, and the Governor listened to 
it very attentively, probably because he thought it would be 
the last, which opportunity Jack employed to narrate the un- 
fortunate end of his father. 

T would not have said so at the time, Mr. Easy, but, now 
the wound is healed, I tell you that it is the best thing that 
could have happened — poor old gentleman! he was mad in- 
deed.^ 

Our hero remained a fortnight at Malta, and then Signora 
Easy was re-embarked, and once more the Rehiera made sail. 

Tare you well, my lad ; what I have seen of your brothers- 
in-law pleases me much, and as for your wife, it will be your 
own fault if she is not all that you would wish. If ever I 
come to England again, I will pay my first visit to Forest Hill, 
God bless you!’ 

But Sir Thomas never did get back to England, and this 
was their final adieu. Once more the Rehiera pursued her 
course, stopped a day or two at Gibraltar, shared the proceeds 
of the captured gunboat, and then made sail for England, 
where she arrived without adventure or accident in three 
weeks. 

Thus ended the last cruise of Mr. Midshipman Easy. As 
soon as their quarantine at the Mother-bank was over, they 
disembarked, and found Dr. Middleton and Mr. Hanson 
waiting for them at the George Hotel. Our hero had scarcely 
time to introduce his wife, when the waiter said that a lady 
wished to speak to him. She did not wait to know if Jack 

365 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


was visible, but forced her way past him. Jack looked at her 
large proportions, and decided at once that it must be Mrs. 
Oxbelly, in which conjecture he was right. 

Tray, sir, what do you mean by carrying off my husband 
in that way?^ exclaimed the lady, red with anger. 

'God forbid that I should have to carry your husband, 
Mrs. Oxbelly; he is rather too heavy.’ 

'Yes, sir, but it’s little better than kidnapping, and there’s 
a law, sir, for kidnapping children at all events. I shall send 
my lawyer to you, that you may depend upon.’ 

'You hardly can consider your husband as a child, Mrs. 
Oxbelly,’ replied Jack, laughing. 

'Very well, sir, we shall see. Pray where is he now?’ 

'He is on board, Mrs. Oxbelly, and will be delighted to 
see you.’ 

'I’m not quite so sure of that.’ 

'He’s very anxious to see little Billy,’ said Gascoigne. 

'What do you know of little Billy, young man?’ 

'And more than anxious to be on shore again. He’s quite 
tired of sleeping single, Mrs. Oxbelly.’ 

'Ah, very well, he has been talking, has he? very well,’ 
exclaimed the lady in a rage. 

'But,’ said Easy, 'I am happy to say that, with pay and 
prize-money during his short absence, he has brought home 
nearly five hundred pounds.’ 

'Five hundred pounds! — you don’t say so, sir?’ exclaimed 
Mrs. Oxbelly; 'are you sure of that?’ 

'Quite sure,’ rejoined Gascoigne. 

'Five hundred pounds I— well, that is comfortable — dear 
me ! how glad I shall be to see him 1 Well, Mr. Easy, it was 
hard to part with him in so unhandsome a way — ^but all’s for 
the best in this world. What a dear, nice lady your wife is, 
Mr. Easy — ^but I won’t intrude— I beg pardon. Where is 
the brig, Mr. Easy?’ 

'Now coming into the harbour,’ replied Gascoigne; 'if you 
bargain, you can get off for twopence.’ 

'Five hundred pounds!’ exclaimed Mrs. Oxbelly, whose 
wrath was now appeased. 

'By all power, she no fool of a woman dat,’ said Mesty, as 
she retreated curtseying. 'I tink Mr. Oxbelly very right 
sleep tingle.’ 


366 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


We have now come to the end of our hero’s adventures; 
that afternoon they all started for Forest Hill, where every- 
thing was ready for their reception. The Rebiera's men were 
paid off, and were soon distributed on board of his Majesty’s 
ships ; the vessel was sold, and Mr. Oxbelly retired to South- 
sea, to the society of his wife and little Billy. Whether he 
obtained from his wife a divorce de thoro, is not handed 
down. 

Our hero, who was now of age, invited all within twenty 
miles of home to balls and dinners ; became a great favourite, 
kept a pack of hounds, rode with the foremost, received a 
deputation to stand for the county in the Conservative in- 
terest, was elected without much expense, which was very 
wonderful, and took his seat in Parliament. Don Philip and 
Don Martin, after two months’ stay, took their passage back to 
Palermo, fully satisfied with the prospects of their sister as 
to competence and happiness. Jack had no occasion to argue 
the point with Agnes ; she conformed at once to the religion 
of her husband, proved an excellent and affectionate wife, 
and eventually the mother of four children, three boys and 
a girl. 

Mesty held his post with dignity, and proved himself 
trustworthy. Gascoigne, by the interest of the Conservative 
member, soon obtained the rank of post-captain, and was 
always his devoted and sincere friend. And thus ends the 
history of Mr. Midshipman Easy. 


367 



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